Fifty Shades of Blond
by reveuse-de-minuit
Summary: "He was beautiful and brilliant, jagged and white-hot. I was drawn to him as I'd never been to anything or anyone in my life. I craved his touch like a drug, even knowing it would weaken me. I was flawed and damaged, and he opened those cracks in me so easily. He transformed me, even as I prayed that the torment of our pasts wouldn't tears us apart." REPOSTED. ABANDONED. READ A/N
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Helloo humans. So a couple of years ago, I posted this story to a lot of good reception (it had over a hundred thousand hits!), but in a night of shame and drunkenness, I deleted all of the works from my page. After a year or so of debating whether or not that was a good decision, I've decided to post all of my original work here. I'm not proud of it, and my writing style has improved significantly since then. I've also changed my perspective on the way the pair is depicted here a lot, and I'm not a fan of the more simpering Hermione I've created (she's a strong, badass woman and I don't know why I was ever delusional enough to think it was a good idea to take that away from her (even though I didn't realise that's what I was doing at the time of writing this fic)). I have a love/hate relationship with this story. I have about four different versions of it (to varying degrees of completion), but in the end I wasn't happy with where any of them were going or what any of them were about. But in case there's any interest in this story from years ago, here is the original version! I hope you guys like it!

 **Chapter One**

Hermione looked into the mirror, scowling at her reflection. She attempted to tame her mass of chocolate curls into submission. Damn Ginny Weasley for talking her into this. And damn her humanity for being unable to resist her friend's incessant pleading. Of course Ginny had to succumb to the flu today, of all days. She had taken a potion to counteract the effects, but it would take a full twenty-four hours for them to fully kick in. The entire predicament was preposterous.

Due to her sudden illness, Hermione had to interview some mega-industrial tycoon. Ginny hadn't even bothered to give her a name. Sure, Hermione had done her share of interviews—being a part of the Golden Trio, there was no way out of them—but being on the other end of the interviewing process was both new and foreign territory. She had tried to tell her friend this, but Ginny's rebuttal about Hermione's own ambition out of Hogwarts to dabble in politics negated any logical argument she had. If she had the gusto for politics when she was younger, then she had the ability to interview a business man when she's older. In times like this when her logic failed her, she blamed her compassion.

After several more attempts, Hermione huffed, pulling her hair into a french twist. She had managed to tame her curls somewhat since her Hogwarts days, but there was only so much a witch could do in three years. She sighed for what felt like the millionth time, assessing her appearance in the mirror. Being a major benefactor to Ginny's university, as well as being CEO of his company, Hermione assumed the person she was interviewing would have some swanky office in the wizarding equivalent of Knightsbridge. She had decided to go with a grey Dior peplum dress, hoping it would be up to par with whatever her interviewee would be expecting. She even did her makeup, which was something she rarely touched. To complete the look, she borrowed a pair of Ginny's Christian Louboutin black pumps. She felt uncomfortable, to say the least.

With one final look, She walked towards the door, reaching for her coat. She looked over at her friend who donned ridiculous pajamas, most likely made by her mother. She couldn't help but feel guilty for acting so immature. She knew Ginny was really looking forward to the interview. It had taken her nearly six months to schedule it in the first place.

"I'm heading out now, Gin." She called, catching the redhead's attention.

"Good luck with the interview, 'Mione. I really do appreciate this, you know. I'll make it up to you, I swear." The Weasley girl really did look contrite. Hermione smirked at this.

"Just know that you are forever in my debt, and you'll only make it up when I feel it adequate." Hermione fiddled with her diamond necklace, the gesture becoming one of her latest nervous habits.

It was a sixteenth birthday present from her parents. Thinking of them made her heart throb in pain. It had been two years since they were killed. Even after all of her meticulous planning, some Death Eaters still managed to track her parents down in Australia. They didn't even pay attention when they claimed to not know they had a daughter, the wizards killed them just the same. Hermione swallowed passed the lump that managed to form in her throat. Thinking of them now wouldn't do her any good. She just had to push them from her mind and continue on her merry way to the damned interview.

"'Mione, you okay?" Ginny asked, taking in Hermione's sudden withdrawal. She nodded her head to ease the girl's concern.

"I was just thinking about them." She muttered. Ginny's features immediately softened.

"I understand, Hermione. Whenever I see a new prank that George comes up with, I can't help but feel a part of my heart break." Ginny confessed. A violent coughing fit took over her before she could finish what she was going to say. Hermione's heart immediately went out to her friend. She wasn't the only person who lost her family in the war, and she needed to remember that.

"Now remember, Ginny, I left you some soup in the fridge, you remember how to use a microwave, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I just press the numbers, right?" She asked. After rooming together, Hermione had showed Ginny lots of muggle things, such as television, laptops, and microwaves. The witch immediately warmed to them, and even now was happily tapping away on her macbook. Even with the flu, Ginny still found time for her editing. It reminded Hermione of her days when she dutifully studied everyday for at least four hours, regardless of her state. She was happy that Ginny seemed to find her calling. She grabbed the folder containing her questions and tucked them into her purse.

"Yeah, that's right. See you later, Gin, I hope you feel better." Hermione said at last. She grabbed her wand and disapparated.

Hermione appeared outside the looming architectural marvel. It's a huge forty-story office building, made up almost entirely of glass and steel. It was an architect's utilitarian fantasy. She covered her hair, not wanting the rain to mess up her hard work. Wizarding London was subject to dismal weather, as always. Gathering up the last of her Gryffindor courage, she walked inside the intimidating building.

She couldn't help the gasp of awe once she stepped foot into the grande foyer. Honey-onyx made up the floor and pillars that flanked the entryway. Rich mahogany wood covered the walls, giving the entire space a feeling that screamed affluence. A crystal chandelier was suspended by a gold chain at least thirty feet above her head. The ostentatiousness of it all wasn't lost on her, though.

She started walking, simultaneously taking in other witches and wizards in the foyer with her. All of them were dressed to the nines. The men wore fine robes and suits, looking as though they just walked off of the pages of WQ (the wizarding equivalent of GQ), while the woman wore respectable designer apparel of their own. Hermione felt a rush of gratitude for Ginny's assistance in picking out her own outfit. Had her friend not been there to help her, she would have shown up in nothing more than a T-shirt and jeans.

She reached the secretary desk, eyeing the immaculate bottle-blonde with a twinge of envy. She was wearing the sharpest charcoal suit jacket and white shirt Hermione had ever seen.

"May I help you?" She asked, not even bothering to tear her eyes off of her computer screen.

"I have an appointment with the CEO for six-thirty." Hermione replied. Her voice sounded dangerously close to cracking. She cleared her throat, hoping to appease her sudden nerves.

"Name?" The blonde asked, typing away. The wizarding world had become a lot more accepting of muggle technology. It seemed as though computers and cellphones were taking over the market here as well.

"Hermione Granger for Ginny Weasley." She fiddled with her necklace, trying to appease her sudden self-consciousness.

"Alright Miss Granger, you'll want to go to floor forty. You'll want the last elevator on the right. Have a nice day." The blonde replied automatically. She glanced away from the screen once, only to pass her a visitors badge. Thanking her, Hermione walked over to the bank of elevators and past the two security guards who were both smartly dressed in their well-cut black suits.

The elevator ride was surprisingly short for how high her destination was. The doors slid open revealing yet another beautiful lobby. Another blonde woman, this time dressed in a black dress with white and diamond jewelry, rose to greet her as soon as she stepped out of the doors.

"Hello Miss Granger, you can wait here until your appointment." She smiled pleasantly, showing a perfect set of white teeth. Hermione walked over the sitting area the blonde was pointing to, settling down on the comfortable black leather. Beyond the couch was a floor-to-ceiling window, and Hermione couldn't help but pause in awe at the view. Because of how high up she was, she could clearly see almost all of wizarding London. With the sun farther down on the horizon, the entire city was tainted in golden hues. It was undeniably beautiful.

Tearing her eyes away from the view, Hermione fished out the list of questions from her purse. She really wished she had some more time to research him on her own. Hell, even knowing his name would be helpful! She hated being thrust into positions where she was left in the dark, it didn't settle well with her at all. She could feel the nerves clench in her gut making her heart pound harder in her chest. Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. _Get a grip, Hermione! You've battled Voldemort and dated Ronald Weasely. You can get through this._

She would be the first to admit that dating Ron was not one of the best decisions she'd made in her young life. He was entirely too clumsy and self-conscious to do anything romantic. She felt that after snogging him a few times, it was nothing special. She didn't feel that pull, that spark. Perhaps she had read too many romantic novels, skewing her perception of reality, but she felt that there was always something missing. After nearly three months of their awkward relationship, Hermione called the quits, claiming they would be better off as friends. She did love him, but she found out after their relationship that it was more of a sibling love than anything else.

Yet another blonde strode into the lobby. What was with all of the blondes? Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that her interviewee was some kind of playboy with a particular interest in fair-haired woman. Great, Ginny probably had her interviewing a fifty-year-old pervert. She shuddered at the thought. Gathering the last fragments of her courage, she stood up.

"Miss Granger?" the latest blonde asked.

"Yes." Her voice was unwavering with a confidence Hermione certainly didn't feel. She shuffled her papers, putting them back into her purse.

"He will see you in a moment. May I take your jacket?" She stepped forward, smiling pleasantly at her. Hermione shrugged out of her coat, thanking her.

"Have you been offered a refreshment?" She asked, eyeing the bare tabletop.

"No, I haven't." Hermione replied. She smirked. Was Blonde-Number-One in trouble now? Blonde-Number-Two frowned, eyeing the other woman behind the desk.

"Would like any coffee, tea, or water?" She asked.

"A glass of water, please." Hermione's throat was suddenly dry.

"Andrea, would you please get Miss Granger a glass of water?" Blonde-Number-Two asked in a sugary-sweet voice. Hermione had the vaguest suspicion that the two didn't get along. Andrea jumped at the sound of her name, and immediately left to do as requested.

"Please excuse her. Andrea's only working here because she's some distant relative of mine." Blonde-Number-Two said. She couldn't help but detect the bitter quality to her voice, or the slight narrowing of her gaze.

"Don't worry about it." Hermione smiled, not wanting to get in between their dispute.

Andrea returned with the water. Both women turned away, going off to do something more important. Hermione gulped down the water in a matter of seconds, attempting to ease her dry mouth. She really hated getting nervous like this. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, her blood pumping faster through her veins.

"He will see you now." Andrea called, not bothering to escort her. She gestured vaguely to a set of double doors behind her.

Hermione stood up, shuffling on her feet. With long strides, she reached the door, hesitantly pulling on the steel doorknob. She took in a deep breath, walking through the impressive doors and into an even more impressive office. She took not even a few steps inside before loosing her footing and tripping over her own feet.

Dammit! She knew she shouldn't have worn these heels! Before she could collide head-first into the floor, a pair of gentle hands enveloped her, saving her from further embarrassment. Heat poured through the fabric of her dress. Hermione felt goosebumps travel over her body. He caught her by the waist, hauling her off her feet and directly into his chest. The air left her lungs in a rush, followed immediately by every bit of common sense she possessed. Even through the layers of clothing between them, his biceps were like stone beneath her palms, his stomach a hard slab of muscle against her own. When he sucked in a sharp breath, her nipples tightened, stimulated by the expansion of his chest.

"That was quite the entrance, Granger." The man sneered. Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She took in her interviewee for the first time, dread settling into her stomach. Her mouth dropped open, her mind racing a mile a minute.

"Malfoy?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Her gaze locked onto icy grey-blue orbs of perfection. In all her twenty-one years of life, she had never seen someone so perfect. Blonde hair so pale it was nearly white was tousled in a way Hermione didn't know could look good. No, good wasn't a strong enough adjective for it. It was _sexy_. A strong jaw and high cheekbones formed a perfect face. His mouth was sensuous and lifted into a devastatingly handsome smirk. It lay beneath a straight, aristocratic nose. The man before her stood at least a head taller, and seemed to radiate some sort of primal energy. His dress shirt hung perfectly off of his shoulders, tightening around his muscular arms and torso. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and his legs would make any model green with envy. His tie matched his eyes, and seemed to be the only color in his black and white appearance. Hermione had finally met her vision of Adonis.

Hermione gaped at the boy-no-man before her. He had definitely matured since the last time she'd seen him. Whenever his name was brought up, she always imagined the pointy-featured, teen from Hogwarts who used far too much hair gel. The man before her seemed to contradict everything she physically knew about him. She couldn't deny it, no matter how much she wanted to, but the boy from her youth was gone, and in his place was a man that screamed of a wild, uninhibited danger that she couldn't help but be drawn to.

"Malfoy?" She asked again, really, _really_ hoping she was delusional. She could now see why Ginny hid his identity from her. She would have refused outright.

"I believe you already said my name, Granger. Though say at as many times as you want, it's not changing any time soon." He smirked. His voice had dropped since his younger years, and could easily drive her mad with wanting. She could listen to him read a dictionary, or encyclopedia, or- She halted her train of thought. She needed to stop her over-active imagination if she wanted to cool down the rising temperature of her body.

Hermione couldn't think of any scathing remark that wouldn't kick her out of his pristine office, so she held her tongue and gave him a withering glare. He merely smirked at her obvious displeasure. She didn't care how much he physically changed, and she certainly didn't care that his family switched sides at the end of the war. She still held her childish grudge against him, simply because he was the first boy to actively bully her. And to think that she had a slight crush on the git when she was eleven!

"Now, formalities aside, are you okay?" He asked. A flash of genuine care touched his eyes as he waited for her response. She could do nothing more than stare at him, shocked.

"I'm fine, thank you." She replied rather bitterly. She appreciated his concern, but there was no point in believing his question was purely based on her well-being. Slytherins didn't look out for others, only themselves. Besides, it was a mortifying experience she'd prefer to just forget.

"Now, now Granger. There's no need to be mean. We are both adults now. After this interview you will depart through that door and never have to lay eyes on my handsome face again." Malfoy said, placing a hand on the small of her back. An odd shiver ran down her spine, warming her body as he guided her to one of the two seating areas. It was close to the window, and she couldn't help but gaze in awe at the skyline once more. Reflecting on what he had said, she had to admit, she couldn't argue with him, it would merely reduce her to being childish. And childish, Hermione was not.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" He asked, much closer to her than she thought. She jumped in surprise when she felt his breath on the shell of her ear. It sent tingles all through her body. The small sensation, mixed with the slight pressure of his hand against her back, made her want to moan in satisfaction. Instead, she nodded her head, wetting her suddenly dry lips. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. What was he playing at?

"Would you care to take a seat?" Malfoy asked, gesturing to one of the black leather couches. She nodded, making her way over to it. She made sure to sit on the end, far away from where he was.

"Now how are you going to interrogate me from there? Honestly, I thought you would be jumping at the chance to ask me all sorts of personal questions." His eyes glinted with suppressed heat. Hermione had a vague suspicion that he wasn't talking about the same kind of personal questions as her.

At the mention of her proximity, however, she awkwardly shuffled closer to him. He was sitting on the other couch, looking much like a reclining tiger. His smirk was contented yet dangerous. The way he lazily reclined was graceful, not even slightly deterring his overall intimidation. She was so aware of him. Malfoy's close proximity sent electricity dancing through her. She'd never met anyone who had the ability to disorient her as much as the man on the couch to her left. He leaned in closer to her, sending her senses to Nirvana and back. An incensed musk with deep provocative notes assaulted her. It painted images in Hermione's mind that she was getting warm just picturing. It perfectly fit to his all-encompassing presence. He was an overall onslaught to the senses.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, do you mind if I record what you're going to say?" Hermione asked, halting her studying of the 'new' Malfoy beside her.

"No, Miss Granger, I don't mind at all." His mouth turned into a smirk, his eyes alight with laughter. He was mocking her. For some inexplicable reason, Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She glared at him before charming a quill to write down what they were saying.

"I must admit, Miss Granger, I was under the impression that it would be Miss Weasley interviewing me." Malfoy eyed her, his expression devoid of any emotion. A slight curiosity flitted through his eyes, but she couldn't be sure.

"Ginny. . .um. . .Miss Weasley has fallen ill, so she sent me as a replacement." Hermione snapped. She didn't know why, but the fact that she was reduced to an awkward, stuttering fool in front of him made her infuriated. Why was she getting so clumsy all of a sudden? Sure she despised interviews with an unadulterated passion, but almost everyone from her year did. That didn't explain why her brain cells were fried and her overall mental state was reduced to nothing more than a puddle. Sure he was attractive, but she had never let looks deter her from getting the job done. Why should that affect her now?

"I see. I hope she feels better." He stated in a calm voice. Hermione stared at him, her eyes wide. He was worried about Ginny's wellbeing? As if sensing her thoughts, a dark chuckle escaped his lips.

"What? Is it really so hard for you to understand that I'm not as foul as you presume?" Malfoy asked, his eyes darkening, "Well guess what Granger, some people change. Salazar's soul, everyone knows how much you hate being proven wrong, but I'm surprised that you of all people can't seem to grasp that I'm not the same git from my childhood. Really Granger, I thought you were above that." His voice rose the more he continued talking until he was practically shouting at her. He looked caught between exasperation and pure anger. Hermione couldn't tell which emotion she was scared of more. She felt her own anger rise at his words. So he has the audacity to claim that she should be a better person? Why should he get to decide?

"Well excuse me for not getting the memo that you changed. I hardly recall any kind of remark from our days at Hogwarts that would lead me to believe that you can fully be a better person now. Excuse me for acknowledging that you're a pure-blood Slytherin, something I know you're proud of, and expecting you to act on your beliefs. How dare I expect you to be the same person. How dare I be so childish!" Hermione ranted.

Somewhere amidst her rant, she acknowledged her argument was a pointless one. She really shouldn't have judged him based on his past, but how could she do anything else? Besides, Hermione giving up her argument to agree with him? It wasn't bloody likely to happen any time soon. She refused to be shown up by _Draco-Sodding-Malfoy._

His eyes narrowed. He rose off of the couch gracefully, rising to his full height. His hands were clenched into fists by his side, the knuckles turning white. A murderous glint sparked in his now molten-silver eyes. Hermione shrunk into the couch slightly, her fighting spirit slowly deflating. A silent fury overtook his form, and Hermione flinched at the sound of his voice.

"You think you're so fucking noble, don't you? You always say you're looking for the good in others, right? Then why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that I'm not evil? I'm not a death eater anymore, you know I didn't fucking want the mark in the first place. Why still cling to your previous mindset? Look Granger, you best understand that I'm not letting you leave this office without you whole-heartedly believing that I'm not the brainless git I once was." Malfoy's voice was venomous. It was cold and deceptively calm. He leaned down towards her, his face inches from her own. He was completely expressionless, but she could tell by the tight clenching of his jaw and the suppressed ire within his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to Avada her. Her blood chilled, her eyes widening slightly. She didn't want to give up though.

"Sod off, Malfoy. You can't hold me here, nor will you be able to persuade my beliefs any time in the next century. That being said Mr. Malfoy, could you please take a seat so I can conduct this interview?" Hermione spat bitterly. She hadn't seen him in three years, but suddenly that time wasn't long enough. She sincerely hoped that she didn't have the misfortune of seeing him anytime soon.

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Granger." Malfoy snapped. He looked thoroughly murderous. If he wanted to be his brooding self, he could do that later. She just wanted to get through the interview and leave.

"Shall we begin?" She asked, looking up at him. Her eyes locked onto steel.

"Whenever you're ready, Miss Granger." He replied.

"So I have some questions for you, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione began.

"I thought you might." Malfoy replied, deadpan. He was laughing at her. Hermione felt her cheeks flush with both anger and embarrassment. Bloody git. She sat up, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to look intimidating.

"You're quite young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?" Hermione read the first question. She checked to make sure the quill was writing, and was pleased to see the spell worked.

Malfoy slowly rubbed his hand across his lower lip in thought. Hermione's gaze was instantly drawn to the simple action, making her flush with a strange yearning. He caught her gaze and she looked down at the paper in her hands.

"You should be well aware of my family's fortune, Miss Granger. I merely took the family business and revamped it, so to speak. I'm a rather private person, and I go a long way to protect that very privacy. You know as well as I do that I normally don't give interviews." He looked at her with vague disappointment. Hermione instantly felt a strange stab of guilt. She knew how private he was. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. She couldn't help the slight spark of curiosity though.

"Then why agree to this interview? I know you're not particularly fond of Ginn-Miss Weasley." Hermione asked. He gave her an incredulous look.

"I agreed to this because I'm a benefactor of the university, and she's doing this for the university's newspaper. And for the record, I felt like after everything, I owed it to her. Plus she kept badgering my secretaries, and I admire that kind of tenacity."

Hermione was well aware of how tenacious Ginny could be. It was because of it that she was sitting here uncomfortably, conducting this fail of an interview. She glanced down at the sheet, preparing herself for the next question.

"After Hogwarts, you never chose to pursue your educational career. Why?" This one had Hermione interested. She would admit her slight adoration for learning, so she was curious as to why he never went onto higher education. She knew him to be exceedingly bright. Git or not, he was second in their year, only topped by herself.

"I actually did go to a muggle university for a year, Oxford, however I felt that continuing my education would ultimately be pointless. I already run a successful business, so there's no point going to classes that tell me how to achieve what I've accomplished. There's nothing that they offered that was of much interest to me anyway, so I dropped the course after one semester." He replied calmly. His eyes bore into hers the entire time, as though expecting her to yell at him for being foolish.

"Let me see if I understand this correctly, you got into the number one university in the muggle world, and dropped out because you didn't feel it would better your future in anyway?" Hermione balked. All of her childhood was spent dreaming of Oxford, she even went there to practice medicine for a year. She personally had loved it, and it was part of her healing program to go to a muggle university and study medicine. The whole idea of going there and dropping 'just because' was quite honestly, unfathomable.

"Yes, that is correct." He smirked at her. She was beginning to abhor that simple expression.

"Do you regret it?" She asked, challenging him.

"I'm not a man who regrets much of anything, so no, I don't regret dropping out of university." Malfoy's eyes glinted with mischief. Hermione felt her nerves dance in excitement. Warmth flushed through her body. He gave her a sly smile, knowing what he was doing to her. She cleared her throat, ignoring the flush that rose to her cheeks.

"Given your history, how do you think it has changed you to be the man you are now?" Shit. This was personal. Hermione glanced up at him. Any sort of subtle flirtation was effectively stopped. His face became an indifferent mask once more.

"I suppose I wouldn't have any way of knowing, now would I, Miss Granger?" He replied. She shrunk back into the couch, wishing for the soft leather to swallow her until the time for the interview was up.

"How old were you when you took the Dark Mark?" Hermione asked. It wasn't on the sheet. She hadn't even considered what she was saying before it tumbled out of her mouth. But there the question was, hanging awkwardly in the tense silence that stretched between them.

"Sixteen." He growled,"Either Miss Weasley has some rather intrusive questions, or you, Miss Granger, should attempt to restrain your curiosity." He gave her a withering glare, silencing any opposition. She nodded in acquiescence, unaware of what had come over her to ask that.

"Sorry." Hermione croaked. She hated how small he made her feel.

"Continue with your questions, Miss Granger." He politely offered. His anger seemed to be slowly dissipating but he still looked guarded. Then again, he always looked guarded.

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione finished the last of the six pages of questions Ginny had given her. She had asked some of her own, but she wasn't one to quell her inquisitive nature. She was also surprised by Malfoy. Just like he said, he had completely changed. The prejudiced, spoiled brat she knew was gone, and in his place was a cultured, well-defined man who knew how to make the world his playground. It was somewhat inspiring to say the least, not that she'd ever tell him that. They were just finishing up when Andrea came in the door.

"Sir, it is seven-thirty." She said. Hermione wondered why she had to come in here to tell him that. He did have clocks in the office.

"You may go, Andrea." He said. Ah, so it was the end of their workday. That made more sense. As soon as the door closed, Hermione glanced back at Malfoy, only to see his intense eyes on her.

"Malfoy?" She asked, hoping he would stop staring. She felt a flush spread throughout her body. The heat of his gaze warmed her skin. Heat pooled in her nether region, reminding her of just how long it had been since she'd appeased the tension.

"You've changed, Granger." He admitted, his eyes boring into hers. He leaned in closer to her, his cologne once again intoxicating her with its scent. She knew that it wasn't all the cologne though, there was something about _him_ that was intoxicating. He was like the finest wine, and Hermione had every intention of getting drunk. He brushed a stray curl off of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. His hand left fire in its wake, scorching her soul with its exquisite burn. His lips were so close to hers now. She glanced down at his sensuous mouth, vaguely wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She had no doubts he was skilled, but factual evidence to back up that claim suddenly became a very tempting reality.

"Fuck it." He growled before grabbing the back of her neck, dragging her lips to his. As soon as their lips met, Hermione felt what could only be described as carnal bliss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

She was shocked by how soft his firm lips were and the gentleness of pressure he exerted. She sighed and his tongue dipped inside, tasting her in long, leisurely licks. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right side of aggressive to turn her on wildly. She distantly registered the sound of her purse and papers falling to the floor, then her hands were in his hair. She pulled on the silky strands, using them to direct his mouth over hers. He growled, deepening the kiss, stroking her tongue with lush slides of his own. He pushed off of the couch he was sitting on, instead climbing over her. Cupping the back of her neck and the curve of her butt, her rearranged her on the couch, effectively caging her in with his body.

"I want to fuck you, Granger. Trouble or not, and I can't stop." He muttered against her. His crude words had the equivalent effect of a cold shower. True, they were a massive turn on, but this was _Malfoy._ She pushed at his chest, struggling to get his big body off of hers. He deepened the kiss, and Hermione had half a mind to just give in all together. He slightly ground against her, and she moaned into his mouth. It was so tempting to just give into him, let him possess her and fill her with pleasure.

No, she wouldn't be distracted, no matter how damn good of a kisser Malfoy was. He relented, noticing her sudden lack of response. He growled while crawling off of her with ease. He looked delicious. He stood at the edge of the sofa, flushed and scowling, his chest was heaving. His tie was loosened and the fly of his slacks strained against a very impressive erection. She had a nightmare vision of what she must look like. Her throat burned. She was aroused, mad, and thoroughly embarrassed. She'd never before lost control like that. She hated that it had been with _him._

Taking him in, Hermione did everything in her power to not let her mind go down _that_ road. The path it was taking would surely lead to jumping him and begging him to take her here. She didn't want to embarrass herself anymore than she already did. She cleared her throat.

"Are we done?" Hermione asked, reaching to gather her fallen papers. He bent with her, helping her collect the pages. When she stood up, her legs were shaking, but she accepted them and picked up her purse.

"Hardly." He growled.

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what is there left to discuss?" She asked. She was beginning to get pissed off. She wanted him to feel as pissy as she was. She wanted a fight.

"We need to acknowledge this." He pointed at the space between the two of them.

"And what about _this,_ Malfoy?" She demanded. Why couldn't he just let her go on her merry way? Both of them would continue their lives without having to see each other. It had been working flawlessly thus far.

"This _feeling_ that makes me want to pin you to that sofa and fuck you for days. This _feeling_ that makes me want to possess every inch of your body, bringing you hours of pleasure. Admit it, Granger, you feel it too." He looked hard at her, challenging her to tell him the truth. She couldn't lie, they'd both see right through it.

"Well _this_ can be overlooked. I am attracted to you, that seems quite obvious, but I'm sure most women are. You can go to one of them and fuck them for days. I'm not interested." Hermione snapped. She could feel the ire begin to rise. Who did he think he was? She felt it grow when he had the audacity to laugh.

"You don't get it Granger, do you? Merlin, for the brightest witch of our age, you really don't get the laws of attraction. In fact attraction is too tame a word for _this._ We have an _intense sexual_ attraction. Do you want to date? Is that it? You don't seem like the kind of woman who has the time or inclination to do such a thing." He stepped forward, coming closer to her until she could feel heat radiating off of him.

"No, I don't want to date, but I hardly see how that affects this. . .connection." There, she'd acknowledged it. Now why wouldn't he let the whole ordeal go?

"Then what is it? What do you want? Seduction? Tell me Granger, do you want to be seduced?" He was staring at her, his eyes boring into hers. She shrunk under his gaze, hoping he'd give up and order her out.

She was equally fascinated and appalled by this conversation. And tempted, yes. It was hard not to be when in the presence of a gorgeous, virile male who was so determined to get hot and sweaty with her. Still the dismay won out.

"Sex that's planned as a business transaction is a turnoff for me." Hermione admitted, hoping he would back off.

"Establishing parameters in the beginning makes it less likely that there'll be exaggerated expectations and disappointment at the conclusion." She balked at him.

"Listen to yourself, Malfoy! Why even call it a shag? Why not be frank and call it seminal emission in a pre-approved orifice?" She scowled. She knew he was the type who enjoyed one-offs, but this was ludicrous. He pissed her off further by laughing at her. Again. The full throaty sound rushed over her like warm water. Her awareness of him heightened to a physically painful level. His earthly amusement made him less sex god and more human. Flesh and blood. Real.

He stepped closer to her, reaching one hand up to caress her face. The intimate gesture was nearly her undoing. She pushed away from him, stepping out of reach.

"Casual sex doesn't require wine and roses, however you of all people should know that I am not the type to throw caution to the wind and launch myself into an affair where there isn't even mutual respect." Perhaps Hermione was out of her element in talking about this, but that didn't deter her. She still had her innocence in tact, and she had no intention of giving it to the man across from her. He merely smirked at her. His humor fled as he stepped closer, his eyes darkening.

"There are no mixed signals in my private affairs. You want me to blur that line. I see no good reason to. I respect you, Miss Granger, and I honestly thought you knew that." She made a move to step back, only to collide with the wall. She pressed against the cool wall, hoping it would bring her aching body down a few degrees. She needed a serious break after this conversation. And a nice bottle of wine. Her heart sung at his admission. He respected her? Well that was a surprise to her. She still clung to her previous argument though.

"I don't want you to do anything, except let me leave this room." She struggled to go past him, but he placed his hands on either sides of her, effectively caging her in. She sighed, closing her eyes. She could feel tension build behind her temples.

"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" She finally asked. She was tired of this. She just wanted to go home and watch t.v. until her mind was numb. Wine and ice cream sounded like an exquisite mix to her.

"I want you." He sighed, "Come to dinner with me tonight." It wasn't an offer, it was a request. He didn't give her say, he merely expected her to agree. This irked her.

"No." Hermione snapped defiantly. Just a few hours of his domineering personality was more than she could take.

"It wasn't an offer. You're going to come with me tonight." He growled. The authority in his tone made her shiver. The spark she'd been pointedly ignoring roared to the surface, desperate to make its presence known. His eyes darkened, his hunger for her renewed. She wet her lips, hoping to revive them. His eyes were drawn to the gesture.

"What time?" She asked. She hadn't said yes, exactly, she was merely curious as to what he had planned. All of a sudden a rumble reverberated from his chest, his hand coming down and releasing her bottom lip from her teeth.

"Don't do that." He demanded. Hermione felt the heat return to her skin. He looked dangerous and enticing. She wanted nothing more than for him to capture her mouth with his. To grab onto his silky strands and pull. Hard. She was aching for him all over again.

"Mr. Malfoy, the Minister of Magic is on the phone." A voice floated around them. They both jumped, equally surprised by the interruption. Hermione was horrified. She almost let him draw her in again! He scowled, the expression still making him look dangerously handsome. It wasn't fair.

"Fuck. Come with me tomorrow. I'll pick you up at seven. No excuses." He growled. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, rearranging her dress. She straightened his tie, all while he glared daggers at the wall behind her. There was such a thing as small miracles. She didn't know what would have transpired if she stayed in that office any longer.

"Thank you for the interview, Mr. Malfoy" Hermione said robotically. Even with the moment ruined, she could still feel her skin prickle in awareness.

"My pleasure, Miss Granger." He purred. He guided her to the door, his hand on the small of her back. They exited together, the cool air of the lobby welcome against her over-heated skin.

"Do you have a jacket?" He asked looking straight at her. He pointedly ignored Blonde-Number-Two as she ran off to get her coat. She nodded. As soon as the blonde came back, he took the jacket from her before Hermione could get to it. He held it out for her, helping it on. She couldn't help but feel slightly touched at his gesture. Malfoy walked her to the elevator, pressing the button. When she stepped into the small compartment, she couldn't help the odd mixture of relief and slight bereft as she left his hold.

"Tomorrow, seven. No excuses." Malfoy reminded her. She nodded once, gazing into his intense, grey eyes. The door closed, cutting off their staring contest.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. What the hell just happened? This was Draco- _Sodding-_ Malfoy! Childhood tormenter, and pompous git extraordinaire. She knew that they weren't accurate descriptions any longer, he had shown himself to be a changed man. The fact that he openly said he wanted to fuck her, a mudblood, showed his prejudiced beliefs were indisposed of. He was honestly a good catch, everything Hermione had ever wanted, and she couldn't help that intense pull of attraction.

As soon as she signed out, she left the building. She could have apparated from there, but she needed to feel the cool London air against her skin. She was still overheating, and was surprised the water didn't hiss into steam upon coming into contact with her. She sighed for the thousandth time and apparated to her flat. Her mind was consumed by blond hair, grey eyes, and aggressive masculinity. Only one thought was repeating itself in her mind. What the hell had she gotten herself into?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As soon as Hermione entered her flat, her eyes landed upon her friend who was lying haphazardly on the couch, mobile phone in hand. Her face was contorted in a strange mixture of confusion, fear, and determination. Hermione struggled to withhold her laughter. A snigger escaping her lips much to her dismay. Ginny's head snapped up, her eyes softening in relief.

"Hermione, there you are! I was about to call you, but. . ." She trailed off. This time they both laughed at Ginny's ineptitude.

"But you don't know how to call me?" Hermione offered. Her friend smiled sheepishly.

"Muggle things are confusing. Anyway, what took you so long? I thought you'd be done ages ago." Ginny's eyes narrowed. Uh oh, here comes Ginny the Inquisitor.

"We ran over. Besides, you prepared quite the list of questions, and he was surprisingly forthcoming." Hermione replied, shrugging her shoulders in hopes that Ginny would drop it. She knew it wasn't likely though. This was supposed to be her interview anyway.

"Well that's good. I'll have all the material I need to finally pull all of this together." Ginny muttered, more to herself than Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Malfoy?" Hermione demanded. She was still pissed her friend had withheld the information.

"Because I knew that if I were to tell you right away, you wouldn't have agreed." Ginny stated matter-of-factly. She opened her mouth to retort, but she cut her off.

"Don't deny it, Hermione. So he was agreeable? No name-calling or other git-like Malfoy things?" Ginny asked. Hermione shook her head, a small smile teasing her lips.

"No, actually. I was shocked myself at first. He was incredibly polite, and nothing but a gentlemen." Well, she threw that last part in for good measure. She wasn't an expert, but she was pretty sure that him blatantly saying he wanted to fuck her was not exactly gentlemen material.

"Why are you blushing, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowed once more. Shit, she hadn't noticed how flushed her cheeks had gotten at the mere memory.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Hermione replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. She distracted her friend by pulling out the record of her interview. The redhead dropped the topic, a smile gracing her features.

"I owe you for this, I know. I really appreciate this Hermione, really. Thank you so much!" Ginny squealed. She took the stack, going through the notes with heated interest. Hermione decided to busy herself by making some tea. She really didn't know much about the editing process, nor did she really care to know. She made the mistake of asking Ginny once, and ended up with a three hour lecture. She grimaced, silently praying that wasn't what she was like. Merlin knows that she could go on forever about subjects she was passionate about. Like books.

"I know. Just be aware that you are forever in my debt." Hermione called to her friend from the kitchen. A smirk lifted the corner of her lips. She missed talking to sane people who weren't sexually charged and domineering. Just the day with Malfoy had proven to be strangely taxing for the young witch. But she couldn't help but relive the memory of some of the more heated points of their conversation. She stared into her tea cup, the sound of his deep voice swirling around her mind until it was all she could think of. She could still feel the ghost of his kiss and his body pressed against her own. She wanted nothing more than to apparate back to his office and beg him to claim her, but she resisted for the sake of her sanity. She really needed to get him out of her system.

"Hey 'Mione?" Ginny called, snapping Hermione out of her reverie.

"Yeah, Gin?" She walked back to the living room, half-amused and half-irritated by the clutter surrounding her friend. Ginny's eyes were filled with laughter, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Would you care to explain to me some of the points of the interview?" Her friend asked. Hermione was now thoroughly confused. She'd asked every question her friend had supplied her. What had she done wrong?

"What are you talking about Ginny?" She wondered what her friend was getting at. And why the hell did she look so amused?

"I'm referring to when Malfoy stated, rather bluntly might I add, that he wanted to shag you. You could have mentioned the 'intense sexual attraction' or the hot dinner date you have tomorrow." Ginny looked like she won the Nobel Peace Prize, her grin nearly stretching from ear to ear. Hermione's cheeks flushed a dark red from embarrassment. Mortification settled into each of her pores, leaving her awkwardly shuffling on her feet. She sipped her tea, attempting to ease her suddenly dry throat.

"I didn't see how any of it was relevant." Hermione fibbed, "How did you know anyway?"

"Apparently you forgot to _Finite_ the quill. It continued to write down every word the two of you exchanged. So I want details. Now." Ginny demanded. Hermione huffed. And people thought she was nosy!

Hermione sighed, settling on the recliner next to the couch. This day had been far too long for her liking. She gave one last look at her friends eager expression before closing her eyes and relenting to her, and told every embarrassing and tempting memory. At the end of her retelling, she peeked one eye open to gauge her friend's reaction. What she saw she was not expecting. Ginny's eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth hanging rather unattractively. She looked frozen in shock.

"Thoughts?" Hermione asked, feeling rather unnerved by her friend's reaction. Was what transpired really so unfathomable? It did seem rather ridiculous that not only was Malfoy a changed man, but he was an all-encompassing, sexy male who wanted her. If someone were to tell her younger self what happened between her and Malfoy today, she would have laughed then sent them straight to St. Mungos. She would never have thought that _Malfoy_ of all people would become a romantic interest. Hell, a few days ago she wouldn't have thought that. She always perceived him to be a spoiled, pompous git. Sure he was still pompous, but it would be too idealistic to assume he could change that trait as well. And Hermione secretly admitted to herself that his arrogance only made him more desirable. He was so self-assured it would have been ridiculous on anyone else, but with Malfoy, it just _worked._

"I'm not going to lie, I feel kind of hot from that story." Her friend wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, as she clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles.

"Ginny!" Hermione shrieked, exasperated. When had the redhead become so. . .perverse? Was everyone in this world tainted besides her?

"What? You wanted my thoughts didn't you?" Ginny asked. Hermione shot her an incredulous look, wiping the smirk off the redhead's face.

"Okay, well you and I both now he's into you. Why not meet him tomorrow and see how things play out? It could have been a one time thing. Maybe all the animosity between the two of you died, and in its place you're both feeling this tension because you were both too busy hating each other before to notice it."

She did have a point. Was that really all that this was? Just a misunderstanding of pent-up feeling? Hermione sure hoped so. She didn't know what she'd do if she realized she had a thing for Malfoy simply because he was himself.

"I hope you're right, Gin." Hermione muttered. The faster she got over this, the better. She hoped that tomorrow she would meet with Malfoy only to see that the intense feelings died. She needed to know that she didn't feel anything for Malfoy. The insignificant crush she had on him when she was eleven was nothing more than a passing memory. With those last thoughts, Hermione bid her friend goodnight, telling her to keep up with her recovery, and went to her bedroom. Her previous idea of ice cream and wine didn't hold a candle to how enticing sleep sounded to her right now. She collapsed against her pillow, her last thoughts of grey eyes and a shock of white-blond hair.

Hermione jumped awake. She shivered violently as a draft ran against her bare skin. A light sheen of sweat covered her body. Her skin felt hot to the touch, as though she just got done sunbathing for hours. A pool of heat between her thighs caused her great displeasure. She growled in frustration, glancing at the harsh light of her alarm clock. She had woken up like this three times so far. Three! Each time she fell asleep, her mind conjured some fantasy involving Malfoy. A shiver travelled down her spine as she recalled the latest one. Each time she woke her dream Malfoy was seconds away from entering her. She was wanting and needy. How was she supposed to easily get over him if he thrived in her subconscious too? She groaned in frustration. Damn him for being so sinfully tempting! And damn her emotions for dragging her into this mess! Why couldn't she get him out of her head?

Hermione threw the covers back, grumbling something about 'stupid ferrets' all the way to her bathroom. She stripped, turning the shower to a cold setting. She needed to control her raging hormones. This was getting out of hand. If Malfoy knew that she was losing sleep over wet dreams of him, she was sure she would die of utter mortification. Nothing would stroke his overblown ego more.

Nothing helped though. Even when she dressed, even when she distracted herself with her school work, thoughts of Malfoy prevented her from getting her work done. She re-read her favorite passage from her textbook, hoping it would keep her mind distracted, but even that didn't work. She began to acknowledge her body's ache for him, but she pointedly ignored it as much as possible.

Ginny seemed to pick up on her foul mood, and gave Hermione some much needed space. For that, she was grateful. She was sure that if one more thing propelled thoughts of Malfoy to come into her head, she'd use an Unforgivable. Even if it was inanimate. She glared at the weighty text before her, blaming it for not keeping her distracted. She re-read some of her favorite romance novels earlier, hoping the males in those stories would keep her mind off of him. To her horror, she had started picturing Malfoy as the lead and herself as the romantic interest. As if that wasn't bad enough, she even thought some of them paled in comparison. She had only had one decent conversation with him, for Merlin's sake! She was already being reduced to a brainless chit with nothing more than sex on her mind. This left Hermione possibly more irritated and she burned the books with a strange glint in her eyes. Ginny looked at her like she was mental, but didn't say anything. Wise witch.

Seven o'clock. Hermione glanced at the clock with a frown, debating whether to feel excited or depressed. She really wanted to see him again, to feel that electrifying pull of his presence. But she also wanted to hex him into oblivion. Her emotions were becoming too much to handle. Ginny, after much persisting, helped pick out her outfit. She decided to wear a black high-waisted pencil skirt and an off-white silk blouse. She belted the ensemble, draped herself in tasteful yet modest jewelry and makeup, and was putting on silk stockings when she heard a knock at her door. She glanced up curiously. Ginny's practically ran into her room, not waiting for a response from Hermione.

"He's here." She squeaked. Hermione raised a single eyebrow, amused at her friend's expression.

"Why the reaction?" Hermione asked. She was sure Harry wouldn't appreciate this.

"You could have warned me that he looked like an orgasm on legs! You and I both know I'm in love with Harry, but what I wouldn't give to have a good shag with him." Ginny confessed, fanning herself with her hand. Hermione smiled tightly, a flash of jealousy surging through her faster than she could comprehend it. She didn't know why, but she hated the idea of another woman fucking him. She felt nerves erupt in her stomach. Where had that come from? He wasn't hers. He could shag whoever he wanted. She shook her head, pulling on her black heels.

"So you left him. . .by himself. . .in our living room?" Hermione asked slowly. Ginny's glared at her before giving Hermione her final appraisal.

"Well he can manage. He's an adult." She growled. Hermione rolled her eyes, and left her room.

Her nerves were back with a vengeance. Her legs felt like jelly, her pace slowed considerably by the heels. She gave Ginny a scared look. Her friend smiled in encouragement as they reached the living room.

 _Holy Shit._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

She stopped in her tracks, halted by the sight of the Adonis before her. Her mouth dried as her eyes drank in his form. His back was turned to her as he gazed at some of the muggle things she had around the flat. She admired the way his white dress-shirt clung to his body. His well defined back could easily be ogled for miles, the hard muscle showing through the fabric effortlessly. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbow, exposing slightly tanned skin atop sinewy muscle. His veins were more prominent than other men she'd seen, including Ron, but she decided that she liked it on him. Gazing down, she noticed he was wearing a dark pair of jeans that accentuated his long legs. She blushed as she admired his backside. That in of itself was a work of art. Seeing Malfoy in casual clothes had a strange effect on her. It made him seem more human, but it was like fitting a god inside something far too mundane, no matter how expensive his clothes were. She was surprised to notice they were muggle. Looking up once more, she eyed his hair with slight envy. If only hers was easily tamed. His hair was rakishly styled, as though he ran his hands through it many times. It fell a little past his ears, but Hermione still considered it to be short. It was disheveled, but she knew it was supposed to look like that.

Amidst her admiration, he stiffened, sensing he was no longer alone. He turned around, her eyes meeting his for the first time tonight. She was instantly aroused. So much for Ginny's theory. From the front he looked even more exquisite. His full lips were slightly parted, showing their subtle pout. His eyes burned into hers, molten silver meeting honey. She wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her, to ravish her. The top two buttons of his shirt were left undone, teasing her with the sight of his well-defined chest. She took in a deep breath, needing to settle her hormones. She walked towards him, hoping her feet would carry her to him with ease. His eyes dipped taking in every inch of her body. She felt her temperature rise with the heat in his eyes. Her nipples tightened when a pink tongue dashed out to wet his lips. She felt an aching need for him.

"Miss Granger." He greeted at last, his voice calm and collected. His eyes betrayed his façade, their desire burning into her.

"Mr. Malfoy." She replied. She wet her lips. Her voice sounded far too breathy for her liking. She scowled slightly. Why did he have this effect on her? Why?

"I'll see you later 'Mione." Ginny excused herself. Hermione flushed, having forgotten there was someone else in the room. Neither acknowledged the redhead, instead they continued to stare at each other. He walked towards her, reminding her of just how petite she was. She came up to just below his chin. Up close she could see the light dusting of a stubble, betraying that he hadn't shaved since this morning.

"Shall we?" He asked, holding his hand out for her to take. She placed her slightly trembling hand in his. _Calm down, Hermione. It's just dinner. Calm the fuck down._ She felt a slight pinch and he apparated them out of her flat.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the dark sky above them glittering with thousands of diamonds. A full moon cast pale, silver light onto the city around them. There was one singular structure that held her transfixed. A gasp of awe escaped her parted lips. Lit up with an amber hue, it sparkled with thousands of lights. It overlooked an infamous river, which coursed along like a stream of black ink. A cool breeze greeted her overheated skin. All around her thousands of voices met her ears, all of which she could hardly decipher. Her heart glowed within her chest. A smile lit up her face.

She was in Paris.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked, leaning down close to her ear. She spun around, gazing at him in wonder. This man had taken her to Paris! She had never appreciated magic more.

"Oh, Malfoy. I love it! I haven't been here in so long. Where are we going?" She took in her surroundings once more, her eyes lingering on the monumental tower before her. Even though it was an hour forward, hundreds of thousands of people, muggle and wizard alike, milled about, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city.

"It's a surprise. Come on, it's a short walk." He pulled slightly on their interlocked hands, directing her. She allowed him to pull her, too enamored with the bustling city around her to do much else. She did notice, however, the looks he was attracting. Women of all ages blatantly checked him out. She felt a glimmer of pride knowing that he was taking her to dinner.

After walking for a few minutes in comfortable silence, he dropped her hand. The glimmer of pride she felt before was diminished. She really needed to stop jinxing herself.

A low growl emitted from his chest, surprising her, before he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Sensation danced through her. The feeling of his arm wrapped around her was exquisite. She shivered as he lightly dug his fingers into her hip. He began rubbing slow circles in the same spot, tormenting her. The ache returned, her legs becoming more unstable. Looking up at him, she wondered why he suddenly gripped onto her.

"Every man we pass keeps staring at you. I wanted them to know that you are with me." Malfoy said, as if reading her thoughts. He definitely had that backwards. Every woman they passed gazed at him with some kind of desire or longing. She knew if she were to bring it up with him, he would merely brush her off for being paranoid, or worse. . .clingy. She shuddered at the thought.

She shook her head at the direction her thoughts were taking. He wasn't hers. She needed to keep remembering that. She had no intentions of him being hers either. She needed to finish her healer program and graduate as valedictorian. She wasn't going to let anyone distract her. She wanted to work at St. Mungos since she read about it in one of her weighty texts, and nothing was going to prevent her from reaching her goal. He could shag whoever he wanted. She had no control over it. Gazing up at the man to her right, she couldn't help but wonder if he was going to stick around long enough in her life to see her graduate. Maybe she was just another challenge. Merlin knew he thrived on them. She hated to be thought of as a prize.

"What are you thinking of?" He asked, pulling her out of her trance. She inwardly cursed herself. Here she was in Paris, going out to dinner with one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen, and she was pondering his opinion of her. She needed to suck it up and enjoy herself. Where was the Hermione who battled all of those Dark wizards? She really needed her right now.

"Nothing." Hermione said after a hesitant pause. Shit. She'd waited too long to respond. Malfoy frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Tell me, Granger, what's got your mind working so hard? I don't like being lied to." His voice was hard. She swallowed. Here goes nothing.

"Am I just another challenge? Another prize to win?" She asked, her voice small. She refused to look at him.

"Hermione, look at me." He commanded. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

"Honestly, I don't know. All I know is that I want you. Badly. And I won't stop pursuing you until I get what I want." He looked straight into her eyes. Well, she couldn't accuse him of being silver-tongued. Somehow they stopped walking. He was across from her. He gripped onto both of her hips, sending her nerves on a wild dance. She suddenly didn't care anymore. His words were hot and honest. She wanted him. She wanted him now. Malfoy's eyes darkened with a similar heat. His fingers began tracing patterns over her skirt, driving her mad with yearning. While before it seemed to be unconscious, now he was fully aware of what he was doing to her. He gazed down at her, taking in her every reaction. She gasped at the need coursing through her. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her nails digging in slightly. He groaned softly. The sound drove her absolutely mad. She was tempted to lift her head and kiss him senseless. So bloody tempted. His hands stilled, and he roughly pulled away, grabbing her hand once more. Malfoy's face was hard, once again devoid of any emotion. Ah, there was the Slytherin she knew.

"I need to get you to dinner." He growled.

Fifteen minutes later, they stopped before a beautiful townhouse. The first two floors had been converted into a restaurant, the red awning giving the only indication. He guided her inside, walking straight passed the line of people to the host stand. The hostess glanced up at him, her eyes widening slightly. A blush spread lightly on her cheeks. Without having to say anything, she directed Malfoy and her to a more secluded table. It was a booth, entirely closed off from the restaurant, yet still held that sense of publicity. As she seated them, he merely thanked the girl all while staring directly at Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably under his hot gaze. She was famished, but craved a different kind of taste that food couldn't offer. He cast a muffliato charm before looking through the menu.

"So, how's the weasel doing?" Malfoy asked, eyeing her with dark curiosity. She gulped. Well this was an awkward topic.

"I haven't really seen much of Ron in over a month. Our schedules keep clashing. He's in an Auror program with Harry." Hermione said, sipping her wine as gracefully as she could manage. He ran his hand against his chin in thought, a smirk twitching his lips upwards.

"I had the misfortune of running into him the other day. I really don't know why you lowered yourself for the likes of him." Malfoy scowled slightly. She felt a strange mix of flattery and anger. So she was above him, but she was stupid to date someone like him? At least, that was how she interpreted it. She looked up at him, feeling that heat flare to life as their eyes met. She cleared her throat, suddenly forgetting how to speak. Luckily she was saved by the waiter coming to ask for their orders. She pondered her response.

"I didn't lower myself in any way. I can't help who I feel attracted to." Hermione snapped at last. She felt her anger ease slightly. He frowned, his eyes growing hard. She delicately flinched.

"I suppose that brings us to why I brought you here." Malfoy said after a moment of tense silence. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. The golden, ambient lighting around them highlighted his features making him look like he walked off the pages of a romance novel. She could feel herself clench with sudden passion. She fidgeted slightly in her seat. His eyes flashed silver. _Wow._ Hermione was momentarily breathless.

"And that would be?" Hermione prompted. She took another sip of her liquid courage.

At first he didn't answer her. Instead, he looked at her with a hunger she mirrored. He leaned forward on the table, resting his elbows on either sides of him. She did the same.

"So tell me, Granger, what would you say to a casual relationship?" He asked. Her eyes bulged. She nearly choked on her drink. His candor was surprising to say the least. He smirked at her reaction.

"What do you mean, 'casual relationship'?" Hermione retorted. She refused to believe he had indeed asked her opinion on forming a relationship.

"I mean that I want to be exclusive partners with you, with no strings attached. I want it to be more than a friend with benefits, but I don't want to date. I don't do the girlfriend thing." He replied calmly, sipping his wine with a grace she envied. She thought of his words, turning them over in her head. So he wanted to be her fuck-buddy, but she couldn't see other people and they weren't exactly exclusive. What kind of relationship is that?

"I don't know how comfortable I am with the idea." She answered honestly. They had already established that neither of them wanted to date, so what was he doing proposing something like this? Why bother?

"What part are you unsure about? I'll make up a contract so you'll know my intentions and everything I plan on doing." She balked at him. A contract? What the hell for? She ignored that statement entirely, focusing on his question. He seemed genuinely curious. She was about to reply, but stopped as the waiter came. She used this time to think about her answer. She didn't want to date, but she didn't want to delve into the world of 'fuck-buddies' just yet. She was still a virgin! She hardly wanted to bring up that topic of conversation though.

"I just don't know what to think about this. About you. I need time." Hermione admitted. _Especially if he had to write a bloody contract._

"How long do you think you'll need to sort this out?" He asked, his voice hardening slightly.

"A few days." Hermione stared hard at the table, suddenly fascinated by the cuts and groves. She didn't really want to see his reaction.

"Very well. But at the end of those days, I want to know your answer, Granger." Malfoy looked at her hard, as if daring her to never speak to him again. She gulped nervously, sipping her wine.

"What are your preferences regarding sex?" Malfoy asked rather bluntly. Her eyes bulged and she nearly choked on her drink. There's that surprising candour again. She had to wait a few moments to gather both her thoughts and breath. Well shit. She didn't have an answer. She had never engaged in bedroom activities with anyone besides Ron, and even then they never did much. He was far too clumsy and needed constant reassurance. It was maddening.

"I don't really have any preferences." Hermione mumbled, hoping it was a good enough excuse. He raised a single golden arch at this, clearly disbelieving.

"You don't have _any_ preferences?" He clarified, crossing his arms. He ran a hand along his jaw in thought. Steely grey eyes were trained on her. Warily, she shook her head, squirming under his intense scrutiny.

"Do you prefer fast or slow sex?" He asked, not letting go of this. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin.

"Depends on my mood." She replied. She was so out of her element here. Thank Merlin she had Ginny and romance novels, otherwise she'd be clueless. He seemed to accept her answer, and nodded as though in agreement.

"Where do you prefer to have sex?" He asked. Now he was challenging her, daring her to answer his interrogation. She squared her shoulders and answered.

"A bed preferably. But I don't mind. Wherever and whenever is fine with me."

"Do you come more from clit stimulation, or vaginal?" Malfoy took a long sip of wine, completely calm, as though he hasn't just asked her a very personal question. She squirmed again, her strength dissolving. Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. _She didn't know._ She took in a deep breath, training her eyes on him.

"Clit." She answered, feeling remarkably rebellious for saying such a word in a public restaurant.

"Rough or soft?" Malfoy's eyes blazed. He hadn't moved at all, but Hermione had a vague suspicion that he was far more interested in her answer to this question. Her curiosity peaked. She wanted to delve without being obvious, so she played dumb.

"What do you mean?" She asked, watching him closely. Malfoy smirked at her, seeing right through her antics.

"I don't make love, Granger, I fuck. Hard." Hermione involuntarily gasped, her desire peaking to unimaginably heights. Her heart pounded at his admission.

 _I don't make love, Granger, I fuck. Hard._ The words repeated themselves over and over in her head like a broken record player. She knew that simple sentence was going to haunt her tonight, daring her subconscious to create more steamy, lust filled dreams that would leave her in a constantly aroused state.

The food came and they ate in silence. She took the time to mull everything over. Her arousal was simmering beneath her skin, her mind conjuring ways he could just fuck her on this table right now. This conversation was certainly unlike any other she'd had before. It left here bereft and wanting. A delicious ache swept through her. She had to focus on the food before her and ignore the God across from her. The task was surprisingly difficult. She'd catch her eyes beginning to wander of their own accord, and she could feel his intense gaze on her. She thought to the question he asked earlier, considering it.

Why was he pushing for this strange relationship anyway? He wanted to be exclusive, but he didn't want to date. He wanted to fuck her whenever he wanted, yet he was adamant that no feelings got involved. Hermione knew what was going to happen. Situations like this always ended with one of them liking the other. Always. This would only end in disaster. Yet looking at him across the table, Hermione had half a mind to just say 'screw it' and agree. He had this ability to make her abandon all of her beliefs just to be with him in any way possible. Hell, a few days ago she would have never agreed to a dinner with him, let alone in Paris. Now here she was, wondering how badly her hormones had to be raging for her to want to be with him. She touched only half of her food before stopping. Her appetite had been dramatically reduced. She was hungry for only one thing, and she was angry she wasn't going to be having him tonight.

"Finish your meal, Granger." Malfoy demanded. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief. The man who probably never went hungry in his life, was demanding her to finish her meal? How childish was that?

"You're not my mother." Hermione snapped. Grey eyes flashed in anger, a hard glare reducing her will to nothing in a matter of seconds. Shit. She pissed him off.

 _Stupid!_ _Stupid! Stupid!_

"Granger. Eat." He growled. She scoffed at him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her in public, so she took the opportunity to be blunt.

"No." She retorted. She was full. He wasn't going to force her to eat. This was just stupid. Why did he care so much? What made him feel like he had to control her in every aspect even down to how much she ate? This was just ridiculous.

He glared at her. He said nothing, merely sat livid opposite her. The waiter came, clearing their plates and left the bill. Malfoy paid without so much as glancing at the amount. He didn't take his eyes off of her the entire time. She began squirming uncomfortably. She was beginning to deeply regret her defiance. Dammit! Why did she have to piss him off? She fiddled with her necklace, needing to do something with her hands that didn't involve stabbing herself with a fork. For such a bright witch, she was really stupid sometimes. An angry Malfoy was a terrifying one. As soon as he got his card back, he jumped to his feet, dragging her out of the restaurant. She felt a rush. She was terrified, but something about being dragged around Paris with him still managed to make her desire for him grow. Was that twisted or what? She could feel a building tension, and she couldn't decipher if it was sexual or just awkward. She hoped it was the former.

"Hold on." He snapped, pulling her into his form. She met the solidarity of his chest with a yelp. She forgot his body was like stone. Her body clenched at the close proximity, but she was still wracked with slight fear. Gryffindor courage be damned, he was scary. Without so much as a warning, they disapparated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Hermione's eyes widened when they reached their destination. They were inside a large, opulent room that screamed luxury. The floor was made up of ivory marble. The walls were a matching ivory, and gold carvings and engravings decorated the expanse of them. The ceiling had paintings most likely done by hand, each framed by gold statues. The constellations had been replicated, incorporated masterfully into the overall design. It took Hermione a while to find her favorites. They were so well hidden. The ceiling itself was twenty feet above her head, making her feel very small. There was little furniture, but what there was, was constructed of gold and ivory marble. Three crystal chandeliers hung above her, each glittering with thousands of crystals. A row of thirty mirrors lined the wall opposite a row of matching windows. It seemed to be inspired by the famous 'Hall of Mirrors' in Versailles. The room itself seemed to be the length of a ballroom, and was just as empty. This didn't seem to be their destination, though. While she admired the beauty around her, Malfoy dragged her to the opposite end of the hall.

He swung two impressive doors open, revealing another equally large, yet just as beautiful room. It carried an entirely different feel than the previous hall. The walls were made up of dark mahogany woods, the floor a black marble embedded with glittering diamonds. Here and there, white fur rugs cushioned her feet from the floor. The marble beneath her had been charmed to either cool or warm to the walker's preference. Ambient lighting created a warm yet seductive feel. A large fireplace that was taller than her took up most of the wall to her right. It looked to be carved entirely out of marble, the same as the floor. Two chandeliers lit the room, each as impressive as the others in the hall. They weren't lit, though. What occupied most of her attention, however, was the main feature of the room. The bed. It was impossibly large, bigger than a California King. Emerald silk sheets covered the expanse of it, a white fur blanket draped artfully overtop. The frame itself would have made any craftsman cry. It's dark cherry wood had been stained nearly black, yet as the light caught it, hints of the true colour could be seen underneath. It was carved artfully, with four posts. Each post had to have been at least eight feet tall. Hermione had the wildest urge to run and jump on top of the perfect pillows. She had no doubts of its comfort. She may not know which country they were in, but given the French design, she assumed they were still in France. This must be his vacation home.

Malfoy growled, pulling her into him again. She stopped her ogling and gazed at him, slightly fearful. He still hadn't spoken to her, other than to tell her to hold onto him. He wrapped one arm protectively around her waist, keeping her body in contact with his. His other hand tangled itself in her chocolate curls. He stared hard at her, still silent. A slow desire built within their smoky depths, darkening his eyes to a smoldering grey. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was sure he could feel it. _Godric he was so handsome._

Even when he was livid, Malfoy still managed to make her want him. How was that even possible? He must drink beautification potions religiously. He must.

Without warning, he crashed his mouth into hers, burning through her eroding will to be unresponsive. She wanted to be mad at him, but that wasn't possible when he was possessing her mouth the way he was. He tugged on her hair, making her moan. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, familiarizing himself with every part of her. His hand moved from her hip and slowly blazed a trail to her bum. She nearly bit his tongue when she felt a sudden sting. Malfoy ignored her, continuing his dominating pursuit. She felt the wall behind her back, completely unaware that they had even moved.

Her insides burned in need. She wanted him. No, needed him. Now. It was as if there was suddenly too much space between them. He pressed into her, holding her between the cool wall and his form. Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck, allowing her fingers to run through the back of his hair. He lifted her legs up, wrapping them around his waist. She felt his erection through her clothes, and wanted nothing more than to remove the layers. He kissed her jaw, moving south to suck on her neck. She moaned softly as he nipped at her skin. Malfoy immediately soothed the skin, tracing dizzying patterns with his tongue. She writhed against him, gyrating her hips against his. She longed for him to fill the ache within her.

All of a sudden, she was by herself. Leaning against the wall, she glanced at Malfoy, confusion marring her brow.. He looked absolutely livid. He glared at her, and she flinched. Why was he so mad? Hermione was annoyed though. She was aroused as fuck and he rejected her. Her ego wasn't repaired yet. She couldn't just go at it again.

"What's wrong?" She asked tentatively. Her voice nearly cracked, her slight fear making itself known.

"Come here and I'll show you." Malfoy said calmly. She took a hesitant step forward, but he grabbed her wrist, dragging her to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist almost painfully.

Without warning, he crashed his lips into hers. He possessed her mouth, slightly bruising her lips. She didn't care. She just wanted more of his taste. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, lightly dragging her nails through his hair. He groaned, pressing himself into her. Malfoy tugged on her belt, ripping it off of her waist. His adept fingers made quick work of her shirt. Each time his fingers met her chest to undo the buttons, Hermione felt the fire within her grow to impossible heights. Merlin, she wanted this man. Malfoy growled, yanking the silk off of her broke the kiss to admire her chest. A groan escaped his lips as his eyes drank her in.

"Perfect." He muttered almost inaudibly. Hermione's inner goddess glowed at the compliment. His hands cupped her breast through her bra. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as he played with her nipples through the lace and padding. Every time he pulled, she felt her body clench, sending delicious shockwaves coursing through her. He pushed the fabric of the bra down, raising her tits. Her breasts were pushed up by her own bra. They hardened when the chill air met her skin. Malfoy lowered his head, blowing lightly on one before reaching his tongue out and licking her. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her.

Why had she waited so long to do this? _Because it wasn't with him._ A small voice said. She quickly ignored that thought, unable to think coherently with the wicked things Malfoy was doing to her.

He wrapped his lips around her peaks and sucked hard. Pleasure rippled through her. Hermione gripped onto his hair, dragging his lips to hers. She needed to taste him. He chuckled at her blatant show of desperation.

"We'll have to do something about that." He muttered, tugging both of her hands down. He pulled them behind her back, shifting his hold so both of her small hands were held by his larger one. She struggled against her position slightly, but he smirked.

"Sorry Granger. You're in my world now, and I do things differently." His grey eyes flashed. Malfoy kissed her again, this time he simultaneously pulled her towards his colossal bed. She hated the restricted freedom, but didn't challenge it. Hermione was always in charge, always the one to boss others around. Not having control was. . .exhilarating.

Hermione's heart began pounding. Nerves erupted in her stomach. Was she ready to do this? Was she really ready to have sex with Malfoy? As if sensing her internal debate, he unclasped her bra, cupping his hands around her breasts while kissing her harder. "Stop thinking so hard, Granger. Lose yourself. Feel me, feel what I'm doing to you." He spoke softly, as if speaking too loud would send her running. She did what he said. She lost herself in the feel of his body against hers. When he kissed her, the silk of his shirt rubbed against her bare skin, eliciting a small moan at the friction. She tore her hands free of his hold and began yanking at the buttons on his shirt. She wanted him naked. Now.

She slid the fabric off of him, her hands exploring his hairless chest. Muscle tensed beneath her fingers as she stroked his skin appreciatively. He really was gorgeous. He broke away from her to fiddle with the clasp of her skirt, and she took the time to admire him. Her desire for him soared. His body was all muscle, but he wasn't bulky at all. His arms were large, his pecs defined, and had enviable washboard abs. Her eyes continued their pursuit downwards. His hips had that sexy 'v' that she grew hot looking at. His erection was impressive, and her mouth went dry at the sight. Merlin, he really was perfect.

Malfoy tugged her skirt down her hips and legs, stroking her skin. He hissed, taking in her near bare form. "Fuck, Granger." He groaned. He pushed her onto the bed, sliding his hands down from her waist to her shoes. Her skin tingled, pure need racing through her. She needed release. Soon. As if sensing her need, he moved overtop of her, devouring her mouth once more. His hands continued trailing all over her body, stopping once he reached her naked chest. He rolled her nipples with his index finger and thumb. The padding of his fingers created the most exquisite sensation, leaving her gasping for breath. She was _so_ close.

"Malfoy." She moaned against his mouth, hoping he would pick up on it. She lifted her hips, grinding herself on him. He hissed, silver locking onto honey as their eyes met.

"Let's see if I can make you come like this." Malfoy smirked. He dipped his head, taking her taut nipple into his mouth once more. Hermione writhed under his expert touch. Bliss shot through her veins, taking her senses to unimaginable heights. It felt as though she were falling off the precipice of the highest mountain, and he was there to catch her. She was floating amidst a sea of sensation. She screamed as her senses went into overload. Reluctantly, she was drawn back to reality. _Wow. That was amazing._ He captured her mouth with his, kissing her with subtle intensity.

"You're so responsive. I'm going to have so much fun with you, sweetheart." Malfoy mumbled against her feverish skin. She didn't know how it was possible, but she wanted him again. The overwhelming need within her swallowed her up again. Malfoy kissed his way down her chest, over her stomach, and stopped when he came to the waistline of her panties. He fingered the lace, pulling it down her thighs and off.

Hermione, aware of her nudity, became very self-conscious. She flushed, feebly attempting to cover herself up. He stopped her movements, his grey eyes flashing.

"Don't. You're beautiful, Hermione." With that, he kissed her passionately. The sound of her given name on his lips did strange things to her. It made her mind clouded with a pure, unadulterated desire. Hermione's body arched into his, grinding into the front of his jeans. He should really take those off. Hermione tentatively attempted to do just that, fiddling with the button. Much to her dismay, her sex-muddled mind couldn't complete the task without a great deal of difficulty. Damn, she was an idiot.

Malfoy chuckled at her attempts and stood up to take them off himself. Her mouth dried as desire, thick and hot, pooled in her belly. Gods he was beautiful. Grey eyes never left hers, watching her reactions flit across her face. A heart-stopping smirk placed itself upon his lips. He pulled his jeans and underwear down, exposing his hard cock. She gasped. How the hell was that going to fit inside of her? Her eyes went wide. He was a good eight inches of thick, pulsing flesh. Desire rippled through her. He slowly climbed over her, his grey eyes laughing.

"Don't worry, I'll fit." He smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. Was she really that easy to read? It was kind of infuriating.

Against her will, Hermione was reminded of his previous emotion towards her. He was pissed at her, where had that anger gone? She hoped he was over it, but Malfoy was the type that liked to brood. Hesitation tensed her body. Should she bring it up? What if she did it again, and he decided to stay mad at her? She didn't know how she'd react if he told her to fuck off. Former enemy or not, Hermione was already addicted to his touch, his words, to _him_. Gathering up the last shreds of courage she decided to just ask him and move on.

"Why were you mad at me?" Hermione asked, slightly scared of the answer. He looked up at her through impossibly long lashes, his grey eyes narrowing slightly.

"You should really learn to restrain that mouth of yours." He snapped. He grabbed the both of her hands, placing them above her head. He straddled her hips, effectively rendering her immobile. "In fact, I think I'll teach you right now."

The way he looked down upon her with a strange mixture of arousal, anger, and excitement made her clench. He was going to teach her a lesson? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Malfoy looked down on her, his grey eyes flashing with amusement.

"I told you, sweetheart. I'm going to have so much fun with you." He chuckled, the sound doing odd things to her. Hermione felt a strange rush of excitement flow through her. She wanted to know what he was going to do to her, but not knowing was part of the exhilaration. She was completely at his mercy, and the thought alone made her arousal heighten.

She was his.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Hermione looked up at the man atop her, _really_ looking at him through her sex-muddled haze. His platinum hair fell into his eyes, giving him a dangerously roguish appeal. Sex-hair _really_ suited him. His eyes were a smoldering grey, filled with excitement and arousal. His body was hot to the touch and covered in a light sheen of sweat. To Hermione, he really was sex on legs. She wanted nothing more than for him to fuck her for hours on end.

Malfoy kissed her lips, his body still holding hers in place. It was a kiss all about displaying dominance. He controlled her. In that moment, Hermione would do anything he asked of her. He slowly let go of her hands, and got off of her completely. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes shamelessly wandering along her body. Hermione started to get up, but with a narrowing of his eyes, she was magically bound to the bed. She struggled against the invisible bonds for a few moments, wondering what Malfoy had in mind when he said 'fun'. She was also slightly surprised he was so skilled at non-verbal magic. That spoke volumes of his intelligence.

"Don't struggle, sweetheart." He demanded. Hermione gasped at his authoritative tone. She could feel her arousal soar as her core tightened deliciously. What she wouldn't do for him right now. Lying down on the satin sheets, she could feel the silk caress her skin. Her nipples began to harden against the slight friction of the blanket. They were becoming so sensitive, so receptive to the lightest touch. Tendrils of awareness drifted from them to other parts of her body making her aware of an ache, an ache that demanded fulfillment. To ignore that demand was more than Hermione could bear.

"Now, what should I do with you?" He asked, his eyes dancing. Malfoy spun her around, ordering her to get on her hands and knees. She did so obediently, self-consciousness fluttering through her from her exposure. She knew that he now had the perfect view of the most intimate part of her anatomy. She looked over her shoulder to see what he was doing, but he forced her head forward. A shiver ran through her. She felt his hand travel from the crown of her head down to her neck and along the curve of her spine. He stroked her bottom, continuing his caress down her thighs. His mere touch had her trembling with need.

"Should I spank you? You need to be taught a lesson, Granger, and I want to make sure you learn from it." Malfoy said, his voice calm, as though he were discussing the weather. Yet there was something underneath, a strange heat that could be deciphered amidst the façade. The idea, though it sounded painful and entirely unpleasant, still managed to turn her on. The thought of him being a little rough made her wet with wanting. A seductive chuckle filled the room as he took in her reaction.

"Open your legs wider." Malfoy demanded, massaging circles on her inner thigh. Hermione did as he bade, noting how he still had her under his control. Even if she wanted to move, she couldn't. Suddenly his hands were _there,_ tracing her outer lips lightly. Hermione elicited a low moan, her entire body rigid with anticipation. She was greedy for more. She pushed her hips into his hand, needing more pressure. To her dismay, he pulled away. She whimpered at the loss, missing the electric touch of his skin against hers.

A sharp sting silenced any of her thoughts. To her horror, she moaned. The pain grew after a few seconds until it encompassed most of her right cheek. Where the hell had that come from? He softly massaged the red skin, tenderly easing the pain. Another sting mirrored the previous, the harsh sound of his hand meeting her flesh echoing around them in the near-silent air. She was panting now. Godric how was she so turned on by this? The pain only fueled her desire for him. It hurt, and she yelped slightly with each blow, yet her body shivered and tightened with pleasure. Every time she screeched in pain, he would chuckle darkly, kissing her shoulder-blade softly. He continued this tortured rhythm. He would slap her then massage the skin until it was nearly pain-free.

"Choose a safe-word, sweetheart." Malfoy commanded. She wracked her brain, wondering what the hell a safe-word was.

"What's that?" She asked at last. She only overcame her pride to absorb new information.

"If I get too rough for you, I'll stop, no matter what. Make it something you'll remember. I don't want to hurt you, I only want to bring you pleasure." Malfoy purred, leaning down to kiss the top of her spine. Her toes curled at the sensation of his lips against her skin. She was so close, all over again. She turned her head to look at him, unsure of what she would retain in her state. Taking one glance at him, she knew what to say.

"Silver." Hermione said at last. He smirked, amused by her choice. Hermione had no doubts he thought it was due to his Slytherin background. She would never admit it was because of the mercurial colour of his eyes.

"Silver." He repeated, testing the word as it rolled off of his tongue deliciously. She could listen to him read a thesaurus and she'd be enthused. His voice alone could do odd things to her. He placed both hands on her arse, slowly trailing them up her back.

"You have the most beautiful skin." Malfoy sighed, delicately rubbing the length of her back. Hermione glowed at the compliment. She would have smiled, but didn't want to seem like she was too happy about it. His hands slowly rubbed her stomach, up towards her breasts. Her back arched automatically, wanting to feel more pressure. She yelped as she felt him tug on her nipples. The action was sudden, and slightly painful, yet she felt a low moan escape her lips unconsciously. Tugging, pulling, feeling the shocks raced from each breast to her groin. Nearly painful in intensity, she still couldn't stop the pleasure. She didn't want it to stop.

"Turn over." He demanded. Malfoy's voice was nearly inaudible over her laborious breathing and racing heart, and she had to strain to hear it. Not wanting to anger him and earn yet another punishment, she quickly turned onto her back.

Why the hell was he doing this anyway? She'd never met a man whose idea of punishment involved spanking. Sure she'd read about it in one of her muggle romance novels, but that didn't mean she actually considered someone wanting to spank _her._ The entire idea was new and strange. She knew about S&M and those BDSM clubs, there were a few in London, but she never fathomed going to one. Besides, spanking was one thing, she didn't know what else there was, but Hermione had no doubts it would be painful.

Malfoy's hand came up to her face, brushing a stray curl off of her cheek. He drew her in for another kiss. Hermione adored the feel of his soft lips against hers. His tongue was like velvet as it ran with hers, tasting her with long licks. Their mouths moulded together, moving in harmony. She felt his hand trail down her breasts and navel, resting atop her dripping pussy. Heat steamed out as her legs parted. It entwined around his fingers as he touched her damp nether lips, slowly slipping one finger between them into the soft folds that desperately awaited a touch. He lazily drew one finger up her slit, a deep growl emitting from her chest.

 _Fuck,_ that felt good.

"You're so wet, Granger. Did you like your punishment? 'Cause baby I can make you feel so much better." Malfoy purred. Godric, there was nothing she wanted more than this man. Screw that they hated each other for ten years, in that moment she felt nothing but the greatest pleasure, and it was all because of her childhood enemy. Merlin, she needed him. Her entire body tensed, a sweet ache filling her, making her feel empty. She longed for nothing more than him to fill her.

Her senses were on overload, her body thrumming in ecstasy. She was definitely wet. The moisture coated his finger, and he started slowly rubbing. Shocks rippled through her, gasps escaping her mouth in short bursts. It felt so good, nearly an end in itself. The ache inside grew, becoming more insistent as Malfoy's fingers journeyed down the folds to the entrance of her need. He paused there, touching every centimeter of the heated flesh. The urgency was so great. Two fingers plunged deep inside then withdrew, dragging a groan from her. He did that again, and again, each time her sex attempting to grasp them. Her response was loud and uncontrollable. Pure, unadulterated pleasure rolled through her in waves. He stretched her, filling her in a way she didn't know was possible.

The beating of Hermione's heart quickened and her breathing became ragged. The flame in her loins grew to a precipice of want. Inner thighs quivering, she knew her time was close.

Fingers withdrew covered with her juices. A quick breath inhaling her own scent, he then parted her upper lips, exposing her clit. The first two fingers of his right hand touched that small knob of ecstasy and she couldn't help the thrusting of her hips. Each stroke was caressing her innermost being, setting her whole existence on fire. The drawing deep within her became waves. Waves of want, of need. A demand for the ultimate pleasure that she would not be denied. Hermione came close, then the waves receded slightly.

He repeated the motion, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over her trembling clit. She threw her head back, nearly screaming. Her entire back arched, her arms gripping his shoulders. His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking and nipping at her pulse.

"You're ready." He said, pulling his hands away from her overheated flesh. She groaned at the loss. She was so damn close.

Molten silver eyes bore into honey brown. Pure lust danced in their depths, and Hermione felt the last bit of resolve within her whither away into nothing. The moment she felt the tip of his cock resting against her cunt, she knew there was no one else she'd rather give her innocence to. He slowly slid the head up and down her slit, coating it in her juices. The erotic action was nearly her undoing. She needed him. Now.

Malfoy gripped onto his wand, mumbling a contraception and disease charm. Hermione was immediately flooded with relief. She had completely forgotten about that. They were both in no position to have children. Her heart pounded within her chest. This was happening. This was _actually_ happening. She had dreamed of this moment for so long. Albeit, Malfoy being in the picture was relatively new in her fantasy. She would admit though, she had entertained thoughts of him before when he wasn't so nasty to her at Hogwarts. The git did have his moments back then, after all.

Malfoy slowly entered her, stretching her to accommodate his size. She let out a yelp as a twinge of discomfort overtook her. Tears pricked her eyes. He immediately froze.

"Fuck, Granger. You could have told me you were a virgin."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Hermione froze. Shit. She'd forgotten to tell him. Her heart pounded harder within her chest, dread swirling in her stomach. What if he found her undesirable? What if he decided she wasn't worth it? She didn't think she could handle it. Not right now. Not when she was so vulnerable.

"It never came up." Was her lame response. His eyes were still wide, his body frozen some-what inside of her. He still had yet to move.

"Granger, you should have told me." He sighed. He didn't snap, didn't even say it in a derogatory way, yet it still made her feel guilty. He unfroze, brushing his thumb along her jaw.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Granger. Hard." Malfoy still looked shocked, his grey eyes bright with excitement and desire. With those words, he slammed into her, filling her in a way she didn't know was possible. She let out a strangled cry, muffling the sound in the crook of his neck. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated pace. Oh Merlin, it hurt.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You okay?" Malfoy asked, gazing down hard at her. All Hermione could do was nod. Her body was slowly becoming accustomed to the alien feeling of him inside of her. He slowly started to ease himself out, then slammed into her again. This time, the pain slightly ebbed away, replaced instead by rolls of pleasure. He stilled when he was fully buried in her again, resting himself on his forearms. Silver eyes gazed down at her, taking in every reaction that flit across her face. He closed his eyes and groaned, thrusting into her again.

 _Oh._

Hermione cried out again. He opened his bright eyes, the slightest twinge of concern overcoming his features.

"You alright?" He asked, his voice husky and raw. She nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

"More?" He still had yet to move.

"Yes." She didn't know it would feel this good. She didn't know it would feel like this. Malfoy settled into a rhythm. Slowly, teasingly, he pulled out, only to slam into her again. Her back arched with every thrust, the feeling consuming her. He doesn't stop, just slowly, agonizingly teased her. She lifted her hips, tentatively meeting his thrusts. Malfoy sped up, a cry of pleasure escaping her at the change of pace. Hungry eyes gazed down at her, before he kissed roughly. He kissed her with the same rhythm as his hips, fucking her mouth with his tongue. Godric, she wanted him so bad.

His teeth captured her bottom lip, a deep, primal growl emitting from his chest. Hermione could feel something building, just as she felt before. Her thoughts were scattered and jumbled. There was only sensation gripping onto her as she rode the waves of pleasure. There was only Malfoy and her. The two enclosed in a bubble of pure rapture. Nothing mattered but the feel of his skin against hers, his length inside her body, the exquisite friction and heat that he created. She wanted more. Needed more.

"Please." She panted, feeling her body tense in anticipation. Every muscle in her body went rigid.

"Come for me, Granger." Malfoy growled, his pants mingling with her own.

Thrusting harder, quicker, the rhythm increased as Malfoy drove her to the edge. With a huge surge, liquid rapture was hers. Wave after wave composed her orgasm and Hermione rode the storm. Each surge drew a gut-wrenching groan as her body heaved in response. Her pussy throbbed; a counterpoint to all the spasms deep in her groin. Her heart nearly beat a hole in her chest as the orgasm began to ease and she could feel other parts of her body once again. The last flicker of her pleasure teased out a shiver, and with a deep breath, she eased satiation. As he came, he called out her name, stilling inside of her, buried to the hilt. She nearly came all over again as she felt his hot seed empty within her. She cried out as he pulled out of her, the unfamiliarity of being stretched then emptied causing a painful twinge.

"You okay, Granger?" He asked, tenderly caressing her skin. She couldn't help the smirk that formed on her face. She could guess at what bedroom activities he was into. If he found spanking to be a normal way of foreplay, then she couldn't help but internally laugh at his question.

"You're asking me if I'm hurt?" She replied, attempting in vain to hide her grin.

"The irony is not lost on me." He smirked, rolling off of her. He pulled her to him, their bodies intertwining perfectly. She couldn't help the feeling of security that washed over her as she felt his arm wrap around her waist.

"Really though, Granger, are you okay?" He asked, pulling her closer to him. He rested himself on his forearm, allowing him to gaze down at her. His grey eyes were demanding, commanding a response from her.

Hermione couldn't focus on words though. Her body felt like jelly, her limbs loose and wobbly. She felt relaxed, deeply relaxed. She felt sleep attempt to overcome her senses, but she didn't want to succumb to it. Not yet. She could certainly see what all the fuss was about. He had given her two orgasms. Two earth-shattering climaxes. She knew that wasn't common. She may not have much experience, but she did read, and Malfoy was a walking romance novel. She grinned up at him, unable to stop herself from doing so. She was just so happy. She had never felt this free, this light before. A light giggle erupted from her lips. She felt intoxicated.

"You're biting your lip and not responding." He observed, using his thumb to release her captive lip. She stretched, feeling her muscles loosen in their relaxed state.

She couldn't think. Not right now. But what she wouldn't give to feel like that again. Hermione knew that if they never spoke to each other again, she at least wanted to be left with the memory of this night. And she wanted those memories to be filled with sex. Lots of sex. She didn't care if she sounded like a whore, it was the truth. She couldn't tell Harry or Ron, Merlin knows they'd both avada her, and Ginny would probably end up getting the story regardless. But Hermione knew that no matter what she told the redhead, she would never be able to accurately portray how free and alive she felt tonight. Gazing up into his mercurial eyes, she knew exactly what to say.

"I'd like to do that again."

 **Draco's POV**

Draco couldn't stop the smirk from pulling at his lips. She certainly was a vixen. Gone was the girl from Hogwarts, and in her place was a woman who epitomized his darkest desire. Her chocolate curls fell in soft waves down her back. He felt the urge to grip onto it and fuck her senseless, and he intended to do just that at some point tonight. He had always preferred brunettes, and ran a hand through her silken strands that highlighted her honey-brown eyes.

Damn, those eyes alone were mesmerizing enough to send shocks of electricity down to his prick. Her expressions were displayed within their depths, and he found it amusing how she hadn't noticed how easy it was to read her. Her rosy lips were full, and every time she bit them, a strange feeling took ahold of him. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her when she bit that damned lip. She hadn't lost her sharp responses, and he respected her smart wit. Her skin was tanned and smooth, betraying that she took care of herself. Her breasts were plump, moulding perfectly in his hands. Her body was petite and toned, just the way he liked it. All in all, she was beautiful, and he appreciated that she allowed him to have her innocence.

That within itself was a mindfuck. Malfoy had always assumed that she and the Weasel had gotten it on at least once. The two were near inseparable in school, so he was more than surprised when he felt her virginity tear. Shocked would have been an understatement. But he was slightly angry too. She knew what she was doing, yet she never told him. That was something he needed to know. He would have been more gentle. Merlin knows he hates vanilla sex, but he wouldn't have spanked her had he known just how innocent she was.

That innocence of hers was going to be her biggest downfall. Malfoy knew that she had never done anything even slightly kinky before, even something as mundane as spanking. It was meant to both punish and arouse, and he knew he did just that to her. Her dripping lips told him that. Gazing down at her, he lightly ran a hand up her torso, cupping her right breast in his hand.

"You would?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow in response to her declaration. He felt something within him stir, his arousal flaring up once more. _Fucking minx._

As soon as he saw her trip into his office, he had noticed her change, but what drew him in was her naivety. The woman had gone through the bloody war and still remained the quintessence of purity. He admired that.

But it also led his mind down a certain path. A dark path that screamed of complete dominance and control. He didn't want to just fuck her, he wanted to possess her. The feelings weren't foreign, but the strength of it was. Maybe it was her headstrong attitude, or the need for payback for always kicking his ass at school. All Malfoy knew, was that he wanted to tie her down and control her every feeling of pleasure. He intended to do that eventually. Baby steps. He reminded himself. He couldn't just jump into this. Granger would run int the opposite direction. He had to introduce her slowly, make her realize just how much she wanted it.

With that thought, he looked down at the witch in his arms Gazing into her eyes really confirmed his first impression when she stumbled into his office - there's something otherworldly about her. All wildling, tangled in a briar-hedge, a glitter of feline eyes and a rush of binding blood. . .the imagery tumbled around him as he watched her. Something about her wasn't at all like the rest of the women he'd bedded and controlled. She was different.

Looking down on her as she lay upon Emerald sheets, with olive skin and chocolate hair, he couldn't help but be reminded of the books of fairytales he used to read as a child. He could imagine her just as easily laying out just as she was on a bed of moss, her skin flushed and glowing in the moonlight. . .a siren whose moans are her song, luring him in with sensual promise.

He lifted her chin, drawing her in for a long kiss. This wasn't like their others, those were filled with lust, and uncontrollable frenzy that needed release. Now that they had both been satiated, he could savor the feel of her plump lips against his own. He drank in her taste of honey, cinnamon, and pure desire. She tasted just as she smelt - like warm spices with a hint of yearning. He loved it. To Draco, it was the perfect aphrodisiac. He tasted her with long, leisurely licks, swallowing the sounds she made.

He loved those noises; deep and guttural in the back of her throat. A growl of appreciation for their efforts - offering the last little bit of consciousness before she tumbled into her animalistic space, drawing out the most essential, instinctual pleasure from her ready body. She wasn't loud, but she offered the sounds without holding back.

He pulled away from her embrace, just out of her reach. He motioned for her to follow him, lifting her restraints wordlessly. Granger was hesitant, just as he expected her to be. He still didn't stop to make sure she was coming, though, he merely kept walking towards one of the many doors in the room.

He knew Granger didn't know where she was or what he was going to do, and he had no intentions of disclosing that information. After all, he was a Slytherin to the core. He didn't want her knowing where this manor was, just for his family's sake. They were still in Paris, but in one of the less populated areas. His family had built this house a few centuries ago, and had managed to maintain twenty acres of land. He didn't care to know the value of most of his estates, but he had no doubts that it was well past twenty million galleons. The only time Draco really bothered with numbers was when they concerned his company or his well being. He ignored them otherwise.

They reached the large mahogany door, and Draco stepped inside wordlessly. He noticed Granger's hesitance, but kept walking. There was no need to reassure her of anything. She finally entered, her eyes wide in awe. Draco smirked at the expression of wonder that danced across her features. He would never admit what that simple look in her eyes was doing to his prick. He gazed around the room, attempting to see it through her eyes.

They were in a large, marble bathroom. Every inch of the space was covered in honey-onyx marble; the walls, floors, vanity, toilet, shower, and bath were all carved out of the material. The floors, like his bedroom, were charmed to the walker's preference. Steps led up to the spacious bath that lay in the centre of the room. It was built specifically for the manor, the bath being ten by ten feet. The four corners were flanked by pillars, gold and diamond imbedded in the material. In the centre was a crystal chandelier. Two matching sinks were on either side of the room, large mirrors taking up most of the walls. There were a total of three doors in the room, excluding the entry. One led to a small room for the toilet. The middle door led to a large shower, while the last door led to a sauna. There were four other saunas in the house, but this was one of the more grande.

Draco was the only one who came here, so he took over the master suite, updating it with wizarding and muggle technologies alike. There was a large flatscreen that rose from the floor that was installed within the rim of the bath. Earlier in his life he would have scoffed at the idea of incorporating muggle things into his home, but now he couldn't care less. He liked what he liked, and if what he liked happened to be muggle, then he didn't care. He was apathetic towards them now, just as he was to blood supremacy. Malfoy had been with both purebloods and muggleborns, and didn't care what blood ran through their veins as long as the sex was good.

Malfoy started the bath wandlessly, charming the water to his preferred temperature. He gazed at Granger, noticing how she was covering her front modestly. He beckoned her forward, grabbing ahold of her arms that shielded her body from his view.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Granger." He said, eyeing her perfect mounds. He felt his cock jerk back to life. She blushed, the rosy color spreading across her cheeks and neck like wildfire. He had to admit, it looked almost. . .cute.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he brought her close to him, reminding himself of why he brought her here. It wasn't to think she was cute, it was to fuck her for hours uninterrupted.

"You will not cover yourself in my presence, understand?" He commanded, slipping easily into his role of dominance. He preferred it this way, having control over her. This way he could get everything he wanted without the exaggerated expectations.

He was still kicking himself for asking her to go into a casual relationship though. He had considered the idea only minutes before it stumbled out of his mouth.

He couldn't recall what he was thinking in those minutes prior to his question, but he wasn't trying to stop himself hard enough. It was a stupid offer, but one he couldn't back out of.

The idea of being exclusive with Granger wasn't what made the offer bad, in fact that only made it more enticing. What made him shudder was what it hinted at. When it came to his contracts, Draco always claimed up front that there would be no-strings-attached, and if the slightest feelings were developed on either party's side, the contract would be void unless the other person involved wished to continue. So far, that had yet to happen. Normally, the contract guaranteed his complete control over their sex life, and nothing else was to be developed. Draco had never been a hearts and flowers man, but he had a slight feeling that Granger would be the type who expected it. He knew this wasn't her style, yet he asked her to consider it anyway. She wasn't going to accept, even after they fucked. All Draco could do was savor the last few hours of her desire before she regained her senses and left as soon as possible.

He felt her body shiver in anticipation against his own. He stepped into the bath, pulling her with him. She moaned in appreciation as she settled into the warm water, her head falling back onto the rim of the tub. He admired the way the water covered just over her breasts, teasing him with the sight as the water rolled around her body. They settled on opposite sides of the tub, neither speaking, just appreciating the moments of peace.

"Have you given much thought to my earlier offer?" Draco asked at last. The sooner they got the talking over with, the sooner he got to fuck her. He was already listing the ways he could have her come in just the bath alone. He hoped she agreed. He really did. Malfoy didn't make offers like this very often, and when he did, the contracts last for at least half a year. Draco felt himself stiffen at the thoughts of what he could do to her in that time period. Words. He needed to focus on what she was saying. Fuck.

"I still need more time, Malfoy." Granger eyed him warily, biting that damn lip of hers. Fuck it all. He was going to show her what that fucking lips was doing to him. Within seconds he was caging her in to the side of the tub, his face inches away from hers. Fucking minx. She was going to drive him mad.

"Don't bite your lip. Do you want to know what it does to me?" Draco didn't wait for her to respond, instead he wrapped her petite hand around his steely erection. Bliss shot through him as she heard her gasp and her hand tightened. He slowly started moving her hand up and down his length, teaching her how to stroke him. It was obvious she was so inexperienced. Now that he knew, he could detect it far easier. How had he not noticed before?

Her hand tightened again, and Draco had to force his eyes not to roll back. He was panting now, just from a simple hand job. Where the fuck had all of his control gone? He had never had this problem before, at least, not since he became a Dom. He resisted the urge to glare at her for stripping away his restraint.

He let go of her hand, needing to regain himself. He claimed her mouth in a possessive kiss, pressing her into the tub. Her one hand still rested on his dick, lightly moving back and forth, while her other hand tentatively touched his chest. He froze, pulling her hand away. Draco could sense her confusion, but didn't want to get into it. That was something he would rather not reminisce. He kissed her again, harder, cupping her breasts in his hands. This distracted her, light gasps and moans escaping her as he pulled and tweaked her nipples. She was so responsive, and he loved it.

He could feel her tremble, and knew her time was close. He gently slid a hand down, drawing two fingers lazily up her slit. She moaned loudly, pressing herself into him. He felt her arousal, and fought the desire to taste it. He had never been one to enjoy giving oral as much as other types of foreplay, but he loved the way she tasted. She was slightly salty, yet sweet at the same time. It was the same kind of juxtaposition as salted caramel.

Malfoy entered her with two fingers, using his thumb to massage her clit. She was so tight, grasping desperately onto his digits as he fucked her. She was ready, so hot and tight for him. He withdrew his fingers, positioning himself at her entrance. He didn't give her a warning, thrusting into her as deep as he could.

Fuck, he was going to have fun with her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione drifted slowly back to the world of consciousness. She'd slept soundly last night, enveloped by a strange sense of peace that consumed her body. She felt content, and unbelievably at ease. She had no idea what time what was, but didn't find herself caring. She was just so relaxed. Her sheets were silky against her skin, her mattress far more comfortable than she could ever recall it being. It was much bigger too; as she stretched out her sore limbs, her feet didn't even graze the end of the bed. Wait, why was she so sore? Her thighs ached painfully, her backside burned.

With a start, Hermione opened her eyes. _Please let that have been a dream._ Her sight betrayed her. Emerald sheets covered her body, the large room around her was far more opulent than anything she could afford let alone live in. The bed was massive, easily twice the size of her own. That was when she remembered.

Flashes of the previous night entered her mind. The pain, the pleasure, the all-encompassing male that was Malfoy. Her body warmed considerably as she recalled some of the events. Had she actually allowed him to spank her? The thought was rather chilling. She had thought it was all a dream, a fantasy of her deepest, darkest desires. A ball of dread entered her stomach as the weight of what she had done fully registered.

She had slept with Draco Malfoy. She had _shagged_ her high school enemy. She had lost her innocence to a man who didn't give two shits about her.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she pulled the sheets around her body. She was alone, but she could hear the shower in a connecting room. She looked down at the floor, eyeing her discarded clothes. Glancing once at the closed door, she darted to grab her things, pulling them on as quickly as she could.

She felt nothing but disgust for herself. How could she have lost control like that? He didn't even get her drunk, so she couldn't blame anything but herself. She looked around for her wand, frustrated that she hadn't stopped. It wasn't that she was abstinent, but she wanted her first time to be with someone who actually _cared._ Was that really so much to ask for? Apparently, to Hermione, it was.

She finished putting her belt on, securing it around her waist, when Malfoy walked into the room. Her mouth dried as she eyed him. He had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, one of his hands holding it securely at his hips, the other was running another towel through his hair. He had yet to notice her, and she didn't mind in the slightest. It meant more time to ogle his perfect form. Drops of water clung to his alabaster skin, dripping down his chiseled chest and arms. She couldn't help but let her eyes gaze down, admiring his perfect physique.

No. She couldn't do this. Hermione was not going to lose herself again, no matter how sinfully tempting Malfoy was. She cleared her throat, attempting to get his attention. His head swung up, his grey eyes meeting hers. His eyes burned, making her body come alive underneath his hot gaze. A smile lifted at the corners of his lips, a slight cheeriness overcoming his expression. Her heart fluttered, and Hermione had to struggle to keep upright. He should smile more often. It _really_ suited him.

Godric it wasn't fair. He wasn't allowed to have this affect on her.

"Good morning." He greeted, walking over to one of the dressers. He proceeded to drop the towel, changing into new clothes..

Fuck. This whole restraint thing was going to be harder than she thought.

 _Words Hermione. Focus on words. Ignore him. Use your brain. Picture Ron. . .nevermind don't do that. Focus on something, anything. Oh look, a bookcase!_

"Morning." She squeaked. Merlin, she was so awkward. Was this how all the 'morning-afters' were? If so, she could do without them. They reduced her to a stuttering fool. Then again, Malfoy had that ability no matter what. She sighed heavily.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, half-dressed. He really should do that somewhere else, or just stop making her talk. How was she supposed to carry a conversation when in the presence of a God? She wondered idly if his parents force-fed him a beautification potion as a child. It would make sense.

"I'm sore, to be honest." Hermione replied at last. Her voice was far too breathy for her liking. A blush covered her face. She sat back down on the colossal bed, realizing she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon with the look he was giving her.

"That was to be expected. I'll get a potion for the pain." Malfoy snapped his fingers, a small house elf appearing.

"What can Bipsy do for Master?" He asked, an eager look in his eyes.

"Bipsy, I want you to get me a vial of star grass salve, and start breakfast." He commanded the small creature. The house elf complied happily before disappearing with a 'pop'.

She glared at the blond-haired man. He noticed her look and rolled his eyes.

"Don't start." He said simply before coming over to sit beside her. The change in his proximity was doing strange things to her. Her heart began to pound, her breathing was limited altogether. Gods he was just so attractive.

"Breathe, Granger." He smirked, rubbing a thumb along her bottom lip. She inhaled sharply, her body obeying his command before she could think to object. This was not good. This was not good at all. Hermione's eyes were captivated by his stormy depths. Malfoy leaned in to her, capturing her lips in a soft, yet possessing kiss.

It was as though he knew she was desperate to leave, and was slowly eroding her resolve into nothing. She wanted to keep a clear head, she really did, but it was impossible when he was doing that thing with his tongue.

"Here's Master's potion. Breakfast is ready." Bipsy cheered, merrily setting the potion on the bedside table, oblivious to the two on the bed. Hermione jerked apart from Malfoy, grateful for the little house elf's interruption. Malfoy, however, looked irritated. Bipsy disappeared once more, the crackle in the air signaling his departure.

Malfoy grabbed the potion, handing it to her. There was still that feeling from deep inside her. With every smoldering glance Malfoy gave her, she felt it simmer to the surface, igniting her desire. She wanted nothing more than to beg for him to fuck her again. She gulped down the vile liquid, frowning at the acrid taste.

Neither of them spoke as Malfoy led her through the many halls to the dining room. She would slow down every once in a while, admiring the space around her. This house, manor, whatever it was, seemed to exude opulence and luxury. She felt as though she were walking through a famous French Chateau. Every time she touched something, she expected a tour guide to pop out and yell at her. She giggled slightly at the picture of Malfoy being yelled at by an old tour guide. He turned around and eyed her strangely.

"Do you find something amusing, Miss Granger?" He asked silkily. She stopped laughing, a flush spreading throughout her body. Damn. That was just from his voice.

"N-No." she stammered. She cursed her ineptitude. She couldn't even hold a bloody conversation with the man. Malfoy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Really, Miss Granger? Because I'm getting the feeling I'm being made fun of, and I'd like to know why." Oh no. Now she'd done it. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. He took a step forward, so she took a step back. He looked very much like a predator seconds before it captures its prey. He kept walking towards her, smirking sinfully.

Hermione yelped slightly as her back collided with the wall. Malfoy placed his hands on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. Why did this keep happening? She wanted to go home and clear her head. He was making that damn near impossible.

"I'm not making fun of you." Hermione mumbled, her breath catching in her throat as he licked his lips. He stepped closer, his body flushed against hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his body through her layers of clothing. Her skin warmed considerably, her desire flaring to life once more.

He leaned into her, his nose millimeters away from hers. She wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her, to ravish her, all over again.

"I don't believe you, Miss Granger. I don't tolerate deceit." He scolded, his breath landing on her face. She had half a mind to grip onto him and kiss him with everything she had. Godric, how could one man be so tempting? Everything that was Malfoy invaded her senses. She had to remind herself to breathe. _Dammit, get yourself together, Hermione!_

"I'm not lying, Mr. Malfoy." She retorted, staring into his silver eyes. They had darkened, resembling a storm. A vicious storm. A shudder ran down her spine. With just a single look, a simple flicker of change in his expression, she was filled yearning. The strength of the emotion startled her. He was so close to her lips, so close to making her forget all of the reasons why she should push him away and say no.

Malfoy smirked, then released her from the cage of his arms. He backed away from her, giving her much needed space to clear her mind. She was beyond irritated though. She was all but begging him, and he smirked and turned away! He stepped through a set of large double doors without so much as a backwards glance. Hermione leaned heavily against the wall, taking in much needed gulps of air.

Basic motor functions like breathing became a near impossible task when in his presence. She pushed herself off of the wall, regaining her balance. She walked through the doors after him. Her eyes widened as she took in the room. It was large, nearly the length of one side of Hermione's flat to the other. The ceiling above them must have been thirty feet, with three chandeliers. She swore the house didn't have a single modern light fixture, just glittering crystal chandeliers that were probably worth more than Hermione's life.

She couldn't help but be slightly envious of his wealth. This was his families money, and with the enterprise he'd built from the company, she could only imagine what the Malfoy family was worth. She read in the gossip column of Witch Weekly that they were the wealthiest family in Europe that wasn't royalty. She couldn't be certain if that were true or not, but decided not to bring it up.

The table before her looked to be twenty feet long, and every inch of the carved wood was covered in food. Hermione's mouth watered, her stomach grumbling lowly as she gazed on at the expanse of breakfast items that were spread along the table.

Everything imaginable, from eggs to meats to pastries, were placed before her. Her eyes widened. Surely he didn't expect the both of them to finish all of this.

"I didn't know what foods you liked, so I had them cook up a few of my favorite meals." Malfoy said, suddenly behind her. She jumped, startled by his proximity. She should really start paying attention. Even after going through the war, she still hadn't managed to refine her sense of who or what was around her. It was a trait she knew Malfoy to have, and she envied him for it.

"Thank you." Hermione said belatedly. He placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to one of the seats. Malfoy sat at the head of the table, and she beside him. She was positive that she'd be yelling at him if she were to sit opposite him. He began to fill his plate, so she did the same. Hermione remembered his snapping at her the night before, so she didn't pick too much food. She didn't want to anger him again. She sighed. He was almost as bad as Ginny, when the redhead felt she didn't eat enough.

Oh, no. Ginny!

"I forgot to tell Ginny where I am." Hermione told him, as he noticed her panicked expression.

"Don't worry, I told her you spent the night with me. I flooed to her this morning. Your friend can be rather, persistent." He stated easily. Dread pooled in her stomach. Godric, she was in for a lecture the moment she got home, she was sure of it. She could imagine her friend now, fiery red hair blazing as though it were actually an inferno atop her head, her blue eyes darkened and narrowed as she scolded her for having a one-off with _Draco-Sodding-Malfoy._

She grimaced, whimpering slightly. She didn't want to even know what made him call her 'persistent'. Her curiosity burned through her, wondering what sorts of embarrassing questions her friend could have asked the blond next to her. A frown marred her features.

"Do I even want to ask what she said?" Hermione sighed after a while. She nibbled on a crepe, moaning as the taste of nutella greeted her tongue. This man was going to be the death of her. She was positive. She glanced at him under her lashes, worried about what he was going to say. To her surprise, his trademark smirk was placed upon her lips.

She was going to kill Ginny Weasley.

"She, after much ranting might I add, proceeded to ask rather personal questions. I don't know how you share a flat with someone so nosy." He grimaced. He frowned before taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm sorry for whatever she may have drilled you about. Merlin knows that woman is tenacious." Hermione said after a beat. He nodded in agreement.

"I must admit though, I'm rather glad she is." He had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Desire danced through her, alighting her nerve endings once more. Her skin warmed considerably.

"Why's that?" She asked, licking her suddenly dry lips. Her breathing was becoming shallow already. She really could admire him all day, especially with that look he was giving her.

"If it weren't for her persistence, I might have never accepted the interview." Malfoy said. Hermione felt her heart flutter, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. That was almost. . .romantic. She shivered.

"It was also a stroke of luck she fell ill. Otherwise you and I might not be having this conversation right now." He continued.

That was it. She felt the last bit of her resistance fade. She couldn't stay mad at him. No matter what argument she told herself, he contradicted each one. Especially the 'he's not good for you'. If anything, his roguish appeal and bad boy history made him all the more appealing. Add the fact that he's a wealthy man who already made his mark in the world, and was an intelligent wizard. Hermione was doomed to be hooked.

"Did I just detect a compliment, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked cheekily, attempting to stop herself from grinning like a drunken fool. How were his simple words of flattery enough to make her into a blushing school girl? It made her slightly frustrated at herself. Did she not have any kind of self-restraint? Apparently not.

"Indeed you did, Miss Granger." He smirked, his eyes darkening to that entrancing storm gray. Oh dear, she should really start distracting herself. Hermione finished her crepe, and began nibbling on a few strawberries. She was never a big morning eater. She hoped he didn't scold her for it.

They ate in comfortable silence, neither willing to break the peace that had settled upon them. At last, the house elves cleared the table. Hermione wanted to help, she really did, but she understood that she would only have panicking house elves crying about how they didn't want to be freed. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness whenever she saw one though. They all reminded her of Dobby.

"I'll owl you the contract later today, just so you can get a sense as to what I'm looking for. I still expect an answer by Friday." Malfoy said after a while. Contract? Oh, yeah. She had completely forgotten about that. She cursed her raging hormones for not allowing her to ask him more about it last night. His look of finality indicated he wasn't going to inform her much about it anytime soon. She gulped, momentarily panicked. Today was Tuesday. That gave her four days to decide whether she wanted to commit-without-committing to the beautiful man beside her. She took another sip of her coffee.

Hermione checked her purse, nearly slapping herself for forgetting she had it. She checked her mobile phone, surprised when it actually worked. Typically in predominantly magical areas, it didn't work. Hermione wondered idly if Malfoy did have muggle things in this home. It was a rather surprising thought. She still remembered him being a racially prejudiced boy who swore he would never go near anything remotely muggle with a ten foot pole. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a changed man. Checking the time on the phone, horror flooding through her.

"I should be going, I have work in an hour. Thank you for everything, Malfoy." She hastily rose from her seat.

"I'll accompany you back." Malfoy said, rising with her.

"It's alright, I don't want to make you go out of your way." Hermione said, going through her mental checklist to make sure she had everything. She thought she did, and turned towards the direction of the doors.

"Granger, I'm coming with you." His voice held a tone of finality that dared her to argue. His authority was not lost on her, but she didn't like it.

"It's okay, you don't have to." She argued, leaving the room. A flash of irritation crossed his features, his eyes narrowing.

"Tell me Granger, do you even know where a fireplace is, let alone one connected to the floo?" He challenged. Hermione frowned. She didn't, but she didn't want to back down. She huffed, turning around to go back to his room. She remembered a fireplace in there, and she decided it wouldn't hurt to start there.

Hermione managed to get to his room before Malfoy grabbed her, pining her to the closest wall. He did that far too much. His hips held her in place, his hands grabbing ahold of hers, dragging them above her head. He wedged one knee between her legs. She was trapped. Her heart skipped as trepidation wracked her body. She really pissed him off now.

"Granger, look at me." He growled when she didn't meet his eyes. Warily, she looked at his chin, knowing she probably couldn't handle the anger in his eyes at the moment.

"Granger." His voice dropped lower, and every sense in her body screamed danger. Fuck. She _really_ pissed him off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Hermione refused to be drawn in by his all-encompassing intensity. She wanted to jump him, yes, but with the near-animosity that rolled off of him, she doubted he wanted to do the same thing. Or if he did, he might want to venture into his world of pleasure-pain. She wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable being 'punished' again, especially since her backside was still sore

He gazed down at her, as though daring her to challenge him again. Well dammit, she would accept that challenge.

"Malfoy, I have to go." She said as sternly as she could. She had to be at St. Mungos in less than an hour. She couldn't waste any of that time if she wanted to go home and change. On the bright side, she wouldn't have to deal with Ginny the Inquisitor until later tonight. She would be able to prepare what she wanted to say to the questions she was bound to hear.

Malfoy glared at her, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"That fireplace isn't connected to the floo." He said after a beat. Instead of berating her like she thought he would, he let go of her wrists, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

"Hold on." He growled. She wrapped her hands around his neck, preparing herself for the international travel. With a snap, they disapperated.

They appeared in her living room, Ginny was nowhere to be found. Thank Merlin for small miracles. Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. He was still angry, but a flash of that ever-present heat burned through.

"I'll owl you later. When are you off of work?" He asked, one of his arms wrapping protectively around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. She kept her hands behind his neck, playing with the soft strands. She would never tire of looking at him or feeling his body against hers.

"I get off at nine." She said, her voice nearly cracking. Gods she couldn't focus around him when he was looking at her like that. He drew her in, kissing her. She adored the soft feeling of his pouty lips against her own, and the taste of him drove her mad. He was a heady cocktail full of mint and pure testosterone. His cologne had the same effect on her; its musky mixture of exotic notes and his own unique smell was enough to make her beg for more of him.

The clearing of a throat made Hermione jump. Her cheeks flushed, mortification flooding throughout her body. She hadn't heard Ginny come in, and looking at the redheads frown she had been there for a while. It was odd though. While a frown drew her lips down, excitement danced in her eyes. Oh no, she'd never make it to work on time with that look. She'd be lucky enough to escape Malfoy, let alone Ginny in her interrogation mode. She was thoroughly fucked

"I'll owl you around nine. Have a good day at work, Hermione." Malfoy kissed her on the forehead before disapparating.

She closed her eyes wishing she could disappear into the closest object.

"Hermione Jean Granger." Ginny said venomously. Hermione flinched. She did not have the energy for this.

"Ginny, I know you want nothing more than to avada me right now, but I have to go to work in half an hour, and I really don't want to be late." Hermione hastened to her room, leaving Ginny a sputtering mess behind her.

"We are so talking as soon as you get home!" Ginny yelled, her anger hardly contained. Honestly, after twenty years of celibacy, you'd think her best friend would be happy. Apparently that was too much to ask for.

Hermione sighed, dreading that conversation. She quickly changed into her hospital robes, pinning her 'apprentice' badge onto the light material. She threw her hair atop her head haphazardly. She scourigified herself, disappointed that she didn't have enough time to take a proper shower.

She doubted she could take one without blushing anyway. Malfoy thought it would be a good idea to take a shower together. All Hermione knew was that she would never look at such a menial thing the same way ever again.

Hermione's apparation point was an unconventional way to get into the hospital. She arrived at the abandoned department store, the red brick fading in London's dreary weather. The words 'Purge and Dowse, Ltd.' were swirled in inky black letters upon a weathered sign. She knew it to be distraction though. There was no such store in existence. She stepped up to the door, promptly ignoring the 'closed for refurbishment' sign. At first it made the witch wary, but now she hardly glanced twice at the warning signs. Most wizarding stores imbedded within the muggle world held such warnings anyway.

"Hello Alfred. I'm here for my shift." She said to the dummy sitting beside the collapsing doorframe. It was a horrific thing, with cracked porcelain skin and fading painted features. Even coming here everyday, the dummy managed to always instill a slight feeling of unease. If Hermione hadn't been so unsettled by the inanimate object, she would have laughed at her idiocy.

"Good Day Miss Granger." Alfred replied, his features twisting into a malicious smile. She shuddered, but felt the wards lift as she stepped onto the threshold. Alfred had been created by Mungo Bunham himself, however he was bred for his infamous practical jokes. The more elderly witches and wizards wanted to keep Alfred as guard to 'be reminded of Mungo's spirit'. The newer generations wanted him out though. Hermione agreed with the latter argument.

She raced up to the sign in desk, where she quickly scrawled her name upon the waiting parchment. Her gaze wandered around the room, taking in the various injuries. One wizard had multiple hands sprouting from his chest, while another witch had steam pouring from her mouth. She sighed. Most of the time, the injuries were backfiring wands, and she had no doubts this was the case for the two. Thirty other people were scattered about the waiting room, but Hermione didn't have the time nor inclination to assess their injuries just then. She was nearly late, after all.

She was an apprentice to the head healer, and it was an honor Hermione was reminded of every time she came into the hospital. While she respected the wizard immensely, she couldn't help but be put-off by his holier-than-thou approach to life. He constantly made more sexist comments in Hermione's direction, enraging her inner feminist. If you wanted to piss off Hermione Granger, all you had to do was mumble about inequality in the world; muggle or wizarding.

"Miss Granger." He glared at her near-tardiness. His voice was cold and held a slight nasally quality.

"Sir, I apologize for being late." Hermione replied automatically. Technically, she was still five minutes early, not that he was likely to acknowledge it. The old healer promptly spun on his heel, walking along the hall to the next patient. The first floor, held Artifact Accidents, and each injury was relatively simple to fix. It was always a matter of not knowing the right spell to fix the damage inflicted, which strengthened Hermione's desire to read more medical journals. She would be nothing short of mortified to have to come to St. Mungos with a mundane accident.

Healer Smethwyck, however, was not headed towards any of the rooms on this floor. He stepped into the elevator bank, impatiently tapping his foot upon the ground. The incessant tapping was grating on her nerves.

She watched him press the correct floor, her eyes taking in the other floors.

0 - Artifact Accident

1 - Creature Induced Injuries

2 - Magical Bugs

3 - Potion and Plant Poisoning

4 - Spell Damage

5 - Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop

Hermione was rarely assigned to assist on floor two, and for that she was grateful. War or not, she still had a habit of being squeemish around insects, particularly magical ones.

The elevators stopped, and the two left the tiny elevator. Hermione trailed on the wizard's heels, still feeling as though she'd lose him in the crowd. St. Mungos was always filled to capacity with witches and wizards. Her eyes danced from patient to patient assessing the injuries. Most of the patients had their own rooms, however some were sitting in chairs around the halls as they waited for a room of their own. Those were always the less severe cases of course, but Hermione's heart went out to them. Whether it was less of a concern or not, they were injured or ill in someway, and Hermione wanted to help every witch and wizard she came across. She knew that was a problem though. Healers weren't supposed to go beyond a professional level to the point of actually caring about the person's wellbeing, but Hermione couldn't help it. She wanted to save the world in anyway she could, one wizard at a time.

 **Draco's POV**

Draco scowled, looking down at the letter before him. His old schoolfriend, Pansy Parkinson, was arranged to be married to some French pure-blood this summer. The blond wanted nothing more than to rip the letter and watch as the parchment blackened to ash beneath the flames erupting from the tip of his wand. He resisted the urge however, instead allowing a deep frown to settle upon his features.

If there was one thing that Draco hated about the mindset of aristocratic pure-bloods, it was the concept of an arranged marriage.

Pansy had made it sound as though her beau was actually a decent man, with looks to match his reasonable income, however Draco still couldn't help but feel the strangest twinge of pity within his chest for his old friend. She had been his first after all. First real girlfriend, first lover. Pansy had been the woman to really show Draco the world, and he couldn't help but love her for that. He had long ago established however, that his love for her was nothing beyond friendship, and while they had been romantic in the past, he could never see himself with her now. It was for that reason that Parkinson went to France, to 'clear her head' and 'take a break'. He had only seen his friend once in the past three years, and while he wrote to her often, she never informed him of much that went on in her life anymore. He couldn't help but yearn for their relationship to return to where it was before, to where they shared every thought and secret without so much as a second thought.

As Draco looked down upon the damn letter that sat upon the great oak desk, he knew that there was no hope for that to ever come true.

He didn't know if he really wanted to go to the wedding. Sure she would be disappointed, but it would be expected. While Draco loved France, he didn't want to be reminded of his dear friend selling her life away every time he visited the country. He knew that from the moment the ring was placed upon those delicate fingers of hers, he would never hear from her again. He resented that with every fibre of his being.

Dragging his thoughts away from Pansy, he folded the letter, putting it in his pocket to worry about later. He tucked away her memory, not even bothering to reminisce the old days. Thinking about her would only instill the saddest twinges of nostalgia. Instead he preoccupied himself with his work.

His business was growing larger and larger by the minute. While his father ran it, the Malfoy family gained an average of 500,000 galleons a day. Now that same number was his hourly pay. It was ludicrous to think of how much money his family had, which was why he donated so much of it. Hogwarts was another place he was recognized as benefactor. He had donated nearly ten million galleons to the school in the past year alone. St. Mungos was his first priority donation wise. He had donated nearly sixty million galleons to the hospital. His reasoning was because the wizard ing population was so small, he wanted to keep it healthy as much as possible. He donated to other wizarding hospitals throughout Europe and the Americas as well, but he felt that it would mean more to donate close to home.

Draco also wasn't as ignorant to muggle items as one would assume for a pure-blood like him. He actually had taken quite a liking to automobiles, and purchased an Audi R8 Spyder upon seeing it for the first time. He got his license, after much hassling, and proudly drove it around from time to time. His collection has grown since that first drive, and now he owned upwards of a hundred cars, ranging from the first ever made to concepts to be released in the next few years. He couldn't wait to tell Granger that.

As soon as his mind turned to Granger, a stirring of want tingled beneath his belly. His prick twitched as the phantom feeling of her body writhing against his flittered across his senses. Originally he had planned on just a one night stand to rid himself of this strange sexual tension he had with her. It seemed as though it would take multiple more shags for that to happen any time soon.

He wanted her. Plain and simple.

He had no intentions of dating her. He asked for a casual relationship because he wanted to shag on the side line just to remind himself that he could still feel the same passion with another woman. He normally would never do such a thing, and hated the entire prospect of being with more than one person, especially considering what his father did to his mother, but he still clung to the idea in hopes of regaining his sanity.

Granger had changed. They both had. She was a beautiful, intelligent witch who agreed to his preferences. While he was giving her a few days to consider, he had planned a date with one of the women in the office. She had been pining after him since landing the job, and he merely gave in to see what being with someone would be like after a passionate encounter with Granger.

Virgin or not, that was the best sex Draco had ever had, and that scared him.

He would tell Granger of this arrangement, but only at the right time. Merlin knew she'd probably hex him if he told her right now.

He rose from the leather chair and strode towards the expansive bookshelf opposite him. He pulled a large tome from one of the shelves, retrieving the packet inside. The book was a decoy, and held a few copies of his requirements inside the sunken pages. Draco had charmed it so everyone who gazed at the shelf would skip that particular volume, making it so they couldn't look at the book for more than three seconds. And all who neared it were overwhelmed with a desire to pick up all other books but that one. It was a complicated charm, but nothing that Draco couldn't handle.

Looking at the document in his hands, his libido roared to life. He was looking forward to her agreement. He rolled up the agreement, muttering a spell so only her eyes could read it, and tied it to the leg of his awaiting owl. The regal bird was perfectly obedient, and flew away from the sill. Draco sighed, purposefully ignoring his rising arousal. Images of last night had haunted him all day.

He yearned to apparate to the hospital, drag her home, and shag her for hours, no, days on end. And the depth of that yearning scared him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Hermione's eyes felt heavy beneath the weight of her fatigue. She repressed a yawn, not wanting to show how absolutely exhausted she was. She blinked furiously as tears blurred her vision, the world around her becoming distorted blobs for a few moments. Today had been far more strenuous than she'd expected. She felt a deep shudder race down her spine, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as her eyes danced across the front page story in the Daily Prophet. A rolling in her stomach coiled around a tight ball, threatening Hermione's meek lunch.

 **Olivia and Arthur Wood, Children of War Heroes Oliver Wood and Romilda Vane-Wood, Killed in Attack.**

 _The two children, Olivia: 14, and Arthur: 17, were killed this morning in a riot outside of the Ministry of Magic. It is unknown who started the riot, but the Aurors believe that a group of Death Eaters who evaded persecution are to blame. Mercifully, the children's deaths were instantaneous, due to the killing curse. It is rumoured that the cause of this riot was to remind those involved in the war that it isn't over yet, not for the Death Eaters. If revenge is their motive, then it is recommended that all half-bloods and muggleborns leave England until the Death Eaters are caught._

 _Six people were killed in total. Sixteen are in critical condition. Twenty-four people were injured._

 _If you have any information involving any remaining Death Eaters who have yet to face their crimes, the Ministry asks you to come forward. There will be no charges against you, and you will be rewarded for your bravery. The office you are to go to is. . ._

Hermione tore her eyes away from the page, a slight tremble wracking her delicate frame. She couldn't read anymore. She had believed the war was over, it had been three years of peace, and now that the remaining Death Eaters had done something as public as this proves that they were not going away for a while. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of the unfair treatment towards Half-Bloods and Muggleborns. She didn't understand why everyone couldn't just live in peace as they had been doing for the past couple of years.

As soon as she read the paper for the first time though, she didn't concern herself with thoughts of her own safety. No. Instead her mind drifted to the ex-Death Eater she had spent her night with. Her first thoughts were if he was aware of what had happened, but she laughed at her foolishness. Of course he knew. He couldn't run a business as powerful as his without being aware of all current events.

But then she wondered how he reacted to the news. Hermione knew that Malfoy used to be involved in their affairs. Would he know who started the riot? She knew that it was unlikely, but he probably knew who was and wasn't caught. But even if the blond did know, she doubted he would come forward.

He was probably being looked at by wary eyes as it was. She knew it was only a matter of time until the Malfoy's were dragged into the attack, simply because they were London's favorite family to gossip about. When Malfoy turned the company around, he became a celebrity. The slightest scandal was published in trashy gossip columns, and anything good was exaggerated to extreme degrees. She knew that this was the perfect opportunity to put the family back into the spotlight, and only time could tell if it would be positive or negative attention. Hermione guessed it would be the latter.

Hermione steeled her thoughts away from Malfoy, and back to her work. She sighed, rolling her head in an attempt to appease the tension that was knotted up and down her neck and shoulders. Her inner thighs were sore, and her bum was still tender. As much as she loved how rough Malfoy got yesterday, she could do without the 'day after' feeling.

Hermione groaned. She was thinking about Malfoy. Again.

She didn't know why it was so hard to focus, especially considering the severity of the attack at the Ministry. She had personally seen to all sixteen of the witches and wizards held in critical condition, and had helped heal all but four. The remaining four looked like mere shells of the people they once were. All of those four were hit by a cruciatus curse or an imperious. Hermione knew that one of the hardest decisions being a Healer, was to determine whether or not to end their misery. All of those four were now in the morgue.

Hermione tried not to think of her former classmate and boyfriend, Oliver, and how unbearably hard he must be taking the news. Both of his children, the two people he held most dear to his heart besides his wife, were gone. He didn't deserve to go through that pain. Nobody should have to go through the torment of losing both of their children. Her heart went out to him, only imagining a fraction of the loss he must feel. Hermione knew that she would go to the funeral.

"Miss Granger?" Smethwyck's voice echoed around the small room Hermione was sitting in. She raised her head, wondering why he was asking for her. She was on her break after all. She eyed his silvery patronus with a vague curiosity.

"Yes, sir?" She asked, rising from the hard plastic chair. Even a cushioning charm couldn't make them comfortable.

"I'm aware that it is your break, however patient 329 has gone into critical condition and I require your assistance." His voice ricocheted around her. The patronus disappeared, and Hermione sighed, reluctantly making her way towards the room.

As she walked along the busy corridor, her mind raced to piece together how their condition dropped so severely in the short span of time. Perhaps they had given the incorrect diagnosis, or his body had an allergic reaction to the new potion. She didn't know what the cause, but she was concerned. He had been one of the wizards barely scathed. He had a deep gash running down the length of his arm, so they had assumed that was the last of his injuries. Maybe there was something inside of his body that they never bothered to check? Hermione didn't know. And not knowing was terrifying her.

As soon as she passed into the small room, she was surprised by the sheer amount of healers crowded within its walls. How severe was his case exactly?

"Miss Granger, there you are." Smethwyck gave her a glare as though to ask what took her so long. In her defense, she had come to the room in less than two minutes.

"What's wrong with him, sir?" She asked walking up to the bed.

As her eyes fell upon the patient her eyes widened. A gasp escaped her mouth as a bout of nausea rolled within the pit of her stomach. His skin had darkened from its light olive to a strange shade of grey. His teeth were rotting rapidly, the inside of his mouth blackening with every passing second. His hair had lightened from its inky black to a silvery white. Clumps of it were falling out at a time, showing his balding scalp. Blue veins stuck out prominently beneath the thin skin, and throbbed slowly with the beating of his heart. His eyes were closed, and Hermione was silently grateful. She didn't think she'd want to know what his eyes looked like.

"What the hell caused this?" She demanded, unaware that such a rapid deterioration was possible.

"At the moment, we are unaware. We were hoping that you would have come across something like this in your reading." One of the older mediwitches replied before going back to casting spell after spell to prevent the decaying of his body any further. So Hermione was only wanted for her obsession with reading. She could get over that as long as it helped out the patient. She wracked her brain trying to remember anything from the Medical Journals she read so extensively. She had a feeling that it would be useless to try to remember. Nothing like this had ever come up, and if it had, she would've remembered the cure to something this severe.

"I'm sorry, I've never heard of anything like this." Hermione said at last, a feeling of weight pressing down upon her petite shoulders. She felt completely and utterly useless. She didn't know how to help him, she didn't know what the fuck was happening to him.

She hated not knowing. It was killing her.

"We're going to have to decide whether or not it's worth the trouble to save him." Smethwyck said at last. Hermione felt her body tense with a livid rigidness. While she knew the Healer hadn't meant that to sound so insensitive, she couldn't help but be appalled by his wording.

"It's worth it to try to save him. It will always be worth it. It's just a matter of figuring out the cure. If we see this again, we will know how to treat it as opposed to killing them." Hermione argued immediately. She could tell her mentor didn't want to save the man, and Hermione couldn't help but be disgusted by his utter apathy. She seriously questioned why he went into the medical profession if he didn't want to save every patient he came across.

"While I agree, Miss Granger, I feel that this is far beyond us. There's a very slim chance he will survive even with our attempts to prevent his death." Smethwyck glared at her. Hermione balked. How could he say such a thing?

"So you want to walk away? You want to give up?" Hermione couldn't believe it. What the hell was Smethwyck doing as a Healer?

"By all means, Miss Granger, if you wish to tire yourself by attempting to save a lost cause, then go ahead. I will not stop you. Just don't expect my assistance in your noble endeavor." With those last words, Healer Smethwyck walked out of the room. Hermione, along with all of the other healers and mediwitches, stared at the empty doorway, as though expecting the bastard to walk back in with a changed heart and mind. She knew just how unlikely that was. To her utmost dismay, a few of the less experienced healers left the room as well, following in their mentors footsteps. A dead silence fell upon the room.

Hermione turned away from the door, immediately beginning to cast every healing spell and charm she could think of. No one else turned to help. But no one left either. All either stared at the young witch with a curiosity or strange inquiry, yet none stepped forward to assist her.

It had been three hours. One hundred and eighty minutes of a grueling torture that screamed of a hopelessness that Hermione did everything in her power to ignore.

The patient hadn't woken up. Hermione didn't need this stress. Not right now, not ever. She was exhausted beyond belief, and had wracked her brain for every healing spell that she could cast. Nothing had worked. She didn't want to believe Smethyck was right, that he was a lost cause. He was still a wizard, still a person. Regardless of if he was conscious or bordering on the edge of death, he was still living and breathing right now, and Hermione wanted to do everything in her power to keep it that way.

She sat down in the chair besides the bed, resting her weary feet for a moment. She rested her forehead on her fingers, slowly massaging her temples in soothing circles to appease her growing headache.

 _Thud. . . . . . . .Thud. . . . .Thud. . .Thud_

Hermione's head swung up as she looked at the man for a long moment with wide eyes. She had cast a charm on him a few hours ago to help hear his heart while she worked on his body. So far it had been beating only twice in a minute, making Hermione convinced he was on the verge of death. But this, this was amazing! She sprung up from her chair, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. She held her wand horizontal over his body, green sparks flying out of the tip. She checked his heart first, now unused to the more regular sound of his heartbeat. He was still hardly breathing, but she wasn't expecting miracles, just progress. Upon closer inspection, his skin had revived some of its lost color, tinting him a sallow light olive. She turned around and made her way to the door to tell the other healers. She had done it! She had really helped revive him!

A hand clamped down around her wrist in an iron grip, halting her walk. Eyes wide, she looked back at the patient, only to be met with the level glare coming from deep pools of crimson. His eyes had gone completely red, the whites a stained color with a tinge of yellow. His upper lip was pulled back in a menacing snarl.

 _Come on Granger, you can do this. Calm him down. You've faced worse before. Remember Ron? Yeah, you can do this._

"Sir, I need you to calm down. My name is Healer Granger. I'm here to help you." she said in her most calm yet authoritative tones. He didn't listen, instead he put his other hand near her elbow. She was about to demand he let go when he bit into her.

A white-hot, blinding pain shot through Hermione quicker than she could comprehend. A scream wrenched itself out of her reluctant throat, echoing in the small room. It burned unlike anything she'd ever experienced. In its own right, it was as bad as a cruciatus curse. It felt as though her blood was boiling in her veins.

Her wits coming back to her, she grabbed her wand.

"Stupefy!" She screamed, watching in horror as his body completely shut down. He collapsed to the floor, landing in a heap of flesh and bones. His body was contorted at odd angles and was still for a few moments. The charm she had placed to enable her to hear his heart ended.

He was dead.

It was all Hermione could do to find a Healer and relay what had just happened. The healer had taken one look at the young witch and immediately placed her in her own room. She wasn't protesting though. The day had been long and taxing, and she felt the oddest sensation overcome her. She just wanted sleep.

"Who do you want me to contact?" The healer asked her. It was a nice gesture, but unnecessary. Hermione tried to tell him this, but he wouldn't listen.

"Draco Malfoy." She muttered at last. The healer gave her an odd look before acquiescing. As soon as he left, Hermione surrendered herself to the siren call of sleep. She didn't even pause to wonder why she had said Malfoy's name.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Hermione winced as she woke up. Sometime during her slumber she had rested on her arm which was now throbbing painfully. She groaned as she looked down upon her bruised arm. This was not what she had expected when walking to work this morning. Not at all.

"You're awake."

Hermione whipped her head around to the speaker, unaware that there was anyone in the room. Her mouth dried and her nerve endings danced with sensation as a shudder rippled through her. Malfoy was sitting beside her in one of the three chairs adorning the room. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his face was held by his hands. His eyes were a shock of slate grey against his pale features. The more she looked at him, the more she became aware of the slight stubble that shadowed his face, as well as the fatigue he was obviously trying to conceal beneath his façade. Regardless, she felt her breath give out as she stared at the Adonis in front of her. She could definitely wake up to him anytime.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" She asked at last. She cleared her throat. It was too husky from disuse. Gods she'd been away from him for less than a day, and she was already drowning in the intensity of his presence. Visions from the night they spent together played over and over every time she looked at him. Her body ached to feel that pleasure and that passion again. His grey eyes narrowed in question.

"Healer Johnson said you requested to see me upon your arrival to this room. He also informed me that you were attacked and your attacker is now dead." His voice was unwavering with something similar to indifference, but his silver eyes burned. She had asked for him? Not Harry or Ron or even Ginny, but _Malfoy?_ Did the others even know what happened?

Damn her stupid hormones.

She turned to the wizard across from her looking every bit as sorry as she felt in that moment. She had probably ruined his night. She didn't want to have him running to her rescue if she got hurt. This was all so stupid. Why did she have to ask for him of all people? He ran a business that was worth ten times more than her life, and he had to put it on hold just because she asked for him as opposed to someone reasonable like Harry or Ron.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"I'm sorry if I ruined your evening." She said after a while. He said nothing, only stared at her with that same intensity. She sucked in a breath, attempting to appease her nerves. That look was seriously her undoing. It made her tremble in all of the right ways, aching for something only he could give her. He was just so handsome. It really wasn't fair. It was cruel.

Still silent, Malfoy stood up from the chair and slowly made his way towards her. With every step closer, her breathing became more shallow, her heart beat more rapidly.

She needed him so much. It was all-encompassing.

He leaned over the bed, his face inches away from her own. She wanted nothing more than to pull on his silken strands and close the gap. She was hot with anticipation, the pool of liquid heat between her legs rising.

"Don't apologize." He said simply.

He closed the distance between them at last. Hermione moaned into his mouth upon the contact. He spread her lips with his tongue, demanding entry, and she opened her mouth willingly as she pressed her body against his. Her breasts strained against her clothing, wanting to feel his hard, firm chest against her own. Her nipples hardened as she slowly rubbed herself against him. She didn't even stop to think of how wanton she was being. She just had a consuming need for him to fuck her.

His body moved against hers, his hands traveling from either side of her face down her neck and shoulders. He cupped her breasts in his hands, lightly rubbing. She groaned against him, wanting to remove the layers of clothing already. His lips devoured hers, his tongue rhythmically fucking her mouth. She matched his passion, adoring the feel of his velvet tongue sliding against hers. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, pulling her body tighter to his.

His hands traveled over her stomach, and underneath the fabric of her shirt. She was still wearing her damn hospital clothes and she wanted nothing more than to take them off.

His hands cupped the swell of her breasts again, tweaking her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. She felt positively alive with him. As though she'd been asleep for a long time, and had only truly awakened when with him.

There was an intense eroticism about seeing the true desire, unrestrained, burning within the depths of Malfoy's grey eyes. He was gazing down at her body with an unwavering adoration. Her inner goddess glowed, doing dances of pure delight. She still didn't know how she had managed to get someone like Draco Malfoy to find her desirable, but she wasn't going to question it anytime soon, not while she could still have her fill of him.

"Fuck the paperwork." He growled before yanking the shirt off of her entirely. He slammed his lips against hers, nearly bruising with his strength. He pushed her against the bed, effectively restraining her. His massive body loomed above her, but she didn't feel even the slightest ounce of fear. She only felt want as it rippled through her. Malfoy pulled her bottoms and panties off in a singular motion, her legs instinctively falling apart as he settled between them. The heat escaped her in waves, raising her body heat to a near unbearable level.

His hands traced the curves of her body, falling over her stomach and down towards her most intimate part. She gasped, the parting of her mouth allowing Malfoy more access as he kissed her passionately. She surrendered herself completely to the sensations he was giving her. His fingers slowly traced her outer lips, gently applying the softest pressure. Hermione felt dissatisfied. She wanted more pressure, more frantic motions, she craved the release she knew he would bring her. He moved down over her jawline, kissing his way down her neck. She breathed heavily, her breasts heaving with her laboured breaths. She had missed his touch, and it had been less than 24 hours.

One finger slowly drew up her slit, but continued its path around her clit, never touching the sensitive knob. She growled in frustration. Her only answer was a husky chuckle.

"Patience." Malfoy breathed. He continued his trail down, his head bending down over her breasts. He lightly traced her areola with his tongue before blowing over the soft peak. The sudden change in temperature, from his hot mouth to the cold as he blew on it, caused her back to arch, a strangled cry escaping her lips. He never stopped his leisurely exploration of her lips either, his fingers spreading them, allowing him full access to her throbbing knob. He never gave into her silent plea. She was dripping from anticipation now. She needed to feel him.

Hermione tried to control her movements long enough to undo the buttons on his shirt. Her fingers fumbled uselessly as his pace gradually became faster. It still wasn't what she wanted, but it was a start. She felt his finger accidentally rub her clit. She nearly screamed at the sensation.

But Malfoy didn't do things accidentally. That bastard was teasing her on purpose. She tried to glare at him, but he chose that moment to fully capture her nipple in his mouth.

That wasn't fair. Hermione mentally was pouting, but she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her parted lips.

His shirt now undone, she trailed her hands from his shoulders down his pecs. Abruptly, his hands stopped her descent. She gazed down at him confused. Why wouldn't he let her touch him? She gazed into his stormy grey eyes, but they gave nothing away. Malfoy silenced her thoughts by kissing her roughly, grabbing her bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers finally gave into her demands. His thumb began stroking her fast and hard as he plunged two fingers inside of her. Hermione's hips bucked into his hands and she gripped his shoulders tightly, digging her nails into his skin.

 _Yes!_

Hermione had been craving this ever since she woke to find him in her room. He curled his fingers as he plunged them into her over and over again, twisting them deliciously and hitting that one spot that made her come undone. She felt the tension building, all of her muscles going rigid with anticipation. He captured her mouth with a searing kiss. She felt the building crescendo of her release, and rode the waves of pleasure he was giving her. Just when she was beginning to feel her tension unravel, he drew away from her, his hands withdrawing from her body.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as she trained her glare on Malfoy. He had the audacity to chuckle before she realized what he was doing. His wand was in his hand and he pointed it at her stomach, muttering a contraceptive and disease charm. Relief flooded through her. She hadn't thought of that. She was still pissed though. Hermione was _so fucking close_ and he drew away. Prick.

The sound of a belt buckle and a zipper drew her eyes downwards. She felt her mouth go dry in anticipation. It seemed that no matter how many times he had fucked her last night, it was as though it was her first time all over again. How the hell had he fit inside of her? He pulled his pants and boxers all the way off, his shoes already removed. His hands were on her thighs, slowly parting them until he was in between once again. Malfoy's blond hair fell into his eyes, creating a roguish appeal that heightened her arousal. His silvery-stormy eyes flashed with a wanton lust. His eyes swept down her body one last time before gazing into her honey-brown eyes. A light sheen of sweat covered his body and his breath was short and shallow.

He was just as affected as her.

Hermione had known it this entire time, but to actually see his desire for her made her feel undeniably powerful and sexy. She felt like a goddess. Malfoy lowered his head before his lips were millimeters away from her own.

"Grab on, Granger." He growled. She did so obediently.

With that he thrust into her, filling her with one decisive motion of his hips. She dug her nails into his shoulders, biting his lip. It still stung to feel him stretch her, but the feeling of fullness was far worth the pain. Slowly the pain ebbed away, and in its place was a pleasure that was so exquisite. Malfoy withdrew before swiveling his hips and thrusting hard into her again. He continued this rhythm, forcing her to take him at his pace. He kept his pelvis in contact with hers, the sensation leaving her breathless. Every motion, whether he be thrusting or withdrawing, rubbed against her clit creating the most delicious friction.

Hermione was close, she could feel it. The same tension was building just as it was before. His pace became faster and faster, keeping with the maddeningly exquisite hard thrusting. She cried out over and over again as he sent her closer and closer to the edge. She was panting like crazy, her back arched almost uncomfortably. She wrapped her legs around his torso, meeting him thrust for thrust. He bent down, capturing her breasts once again. While one hand rolled and pinched her nipples, the other sucked and bit and teased.

That was her undoing. The overload of sensation on every part of her body. She screamed as her release tore through her. Stars danced in front of her as tears blurred her vision. Black clawed at the corners of her sight. Her body was tensed, over sensitive to his touch. He thrust into her three more times before shuddering his own release. The feel of his hot seed pouring into her caused her undoing again. Her throat was hoarse and her chest heaved, but she had never felt more complete. She felt satisfied, so, so satisfied.

"Fuck, did I hurt you?" Malfoy asked. He brushed away the tears that were falling in steady streams down her face. She hadn't even known she was crying. Embarrassed, she shook her head no. That was one of the most intense experiences of her life. She didn't know it was possible to nearly black out.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Malfoy's voice was soft, and it made her break down. She didn't even know why she was crying. She just felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. He probably thought she was pathetic. Great. He lied down beside her, pulling her small frame into his powerful one. An arm wrapped protectively around her stomach, while he kissed her neck and shoulders. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Perhaps it was the stress of the day finally catching up with her combined with her frantic fucking with Malfoy. There really was no other word to describe what they had just done.

Feeling safe within the circle of his arms, Hermione felt fatigue gradually take over her senses. She fell asleep thinking of just how content she was cocooned in the small bed with Malfoy.

Hermione woke some time later. The heat behind her was nearly suffocating, but she didn't want to move. Not yet. She felt so safe with Malfoy. She wanted to fall back asleep and forget about her life outside of that room.

Her eyes widened seconds later, she was instantly wide awake.

Ginny. She was expecting her home tonight to begin her inquisition.

 _Shit._

Hermione struggled out of Malfoy's hold, conscious not to wake him up. Her efforts were in vain as he slowly blinked a few times before waking properly. The lazy smile that graced his features made her melt. Gods he was attractive. He really should smile more often. It was just the right mix of adorkably crooked and dangerously sexy.

"What's got you so worried, Granger?" He asked, his voice husky from sleep. Heat flared within her just from the simple sound of his voice. He had a power of her that he wasn't even fully awake yet to realize.

 _Get yourself together, Hermione!_

"I have to go. Ginny's expecting me home and if I don't show up two nights in a row, she'll go mad." She glanced at the clock that was beside the bed, cursing when she saw the time. She hurried around the room, frantically dressing herself as fast as she could. She was turning her shirt to the right side when she felt his strong arms wrap around her waist. He rested his head on her shoulder, kissing her jaw and neck softly.

Ugh, why did he have to be so. . . _affectionate_ after waking up? While she would have appreciated it any other time but right now, she really didn't want him to distract her. She knew where his distraction would lead. His hands were softly caressing her bare stomach. His entire frame was preventing her from putting her shirt on. She suspected he knew this. Prat.

"We still need to talk about my conditions, Granger." Malfoy whispered into her ear before gently biting her earlobe. A shudder ran down her spine as goosebumps rose on her skin. Damn him. And damn the effect he had on her.

"We will talk about it, Malfoy. Owl me what you need to, but I need to get home." Hermione huffed, still pissed that he wouldn't move. She could feel his bare chest against her own, his heat emanating in waves into her skin.

"Ginny knows you're here. I floo'd to your flat before I came here. I dropped the papers off in your office as well." Malfoy was calm, as though he were discussing the weather and not her hot-headed, tenacious friend.

"If Ginny knows I'm here, then why isn't she here?" Hermione asked him. He may have dropped off whatever it was those terms were, but she highly doubted that Ginny wouldn't turn up if she was informed Hermione was in the hospital after being attacked.

"I told her not to come." His hands were cupping her breasts now. Wait, when did he take her bra off? Her head rolled back onto his chest when he rolled and pinched her nipples in _that_ way.

"And how exactly did you get her off of your back?" Hermione asked, still willing herself not to give into him. It was hard when such a gorgeous, virile male was so determined to get hot and sweaty with her.

"I told her that you asked for me and no one else." Well she was thoroughly screwed. She'd never get Ginny off of her back now. She probably thought they were going to elope, or that Malfoy had kidnapped her or something. But even if he did say that to her, Ginny would need a lot more convincing than just that to prevent her from coming here.

"What else did you do?" She asked.

"I may or may not have given her one hundred galleons so she wouldn't disturb us." He admitted without shame. Hermione spun around in his arms, glaring at him. He smiled _that damn smile_ , instantly appearing like a young teenager again. At least he was helping her acknowledge how weak-willed she was. That damn smile could start wars. She was still mad at him though. He had no right to bribe her friend into not showing up here. While Hermione would admit that having the two in one room when she woke up would be a bit too much to handle, it was still nice to know the redhead cared.

"Draco Malfoy I swear to Merlin, you will never bribe my friends again or so help me I'll never speak to you again." Hermione glared at him. Within seconds the charming, youthful Malfoy was gone, and in its place was the professional businessman with an impeccably cold stare. Even though he was wearing nothing, he still had the most intimidating stance making Hermione feel very small. He clearly had nothing on him, and his wand was by the table, but she still felt he could hurt her. Where did her feelings of safety go? She had only had them minutes ago.

"My apologies for having offended you Miss Granger, but you should know by now that I don't take orders. Especially not from you." His voice was cold and his gaze was icy.

Just what the _fuck_ did that mean?

"Excuse me? Especially not from me? Meaning from a mudblood or from me as a person. My apologies, Mr. Malfoy, for having thought that you and I were equals. I won't make that mistake again." Angry tears blurred her vision as betrayal clenched hard in her gut. Hermione pulled her shirt and robes on, wiping away her tears angrily. She hated appearing weak in front of him. He probably just thought she was even more pathetic. How dare he.

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it, Granger." Malfoy's voice was threateningly low. It still contained that sickeningly polite quality that was cold and indifferent.

"I don't know what to think of you anymore. Now if you excuse me, Malfoy, I'm going to go home and face Ginny. While I'm at it I'll probably tell Ron and Harry that I've been fucking their worst enemy since Voldemort for the past three days. I'm sure they'd love to hear that." Hermione ranted. She gave Malfoy one more glare through her tears before she stormed out of the room. She didn't care that she'd been attacked. She just wanted away from this place. She thought about spending the next day off too. She could always say it was due to her attack.

Her thoughts were so unlike her it was terrifying.

She ran towards the nearest apparation point, wiping her falling tears. She didn't know why he had affected her like this. Hadn't she always known him to be prejudiced? Maybe this was all just a game for him. After gaining the world, he could just fuck Mudblood Granger, supposed brains of the Golden Trio. She knew he was too good to be true. She knew it was too good to believe that he was everything she'd ever looked for in a partner. He played the part well, she thought bitterly.

She apparated home, surprised she didn't get splinched in her emotional state. She fell onto the floor, and didn't bother to get up. She curled up into a ball and sobbed.

"What the fuck did that ferret do?" Ginny seethed from somewhere in the room. Hermione jumped up, wiping her tears away. Ginny rushed forward, embracing her friend in a warm hug.

"Hermione, what did that slimy git do to you?" She asked. Her green eyes were wide with worry as she looked down upon her friends state. She helped guide Hermione over to one of the couches, leaving her only for a few seconds before getting her a cup of tea. Hermione never drank it though, she merely placed it on the coffee table before her and stared at the blank TV.

"I was under the impression that he changed. He fooled me so well. I was just a challenge." Hermione's voice broke. Saying it aloud was making it a reality. She had never felt so betrayed or so stupid. She had fallen straight for his act. He said he respected her, was that a lie? She supposed so.

She hated that man. Hermione didn't know why she gave him a chance in the first place. Sure when she interviewed him he seemed changed enough, he became the Adonis she dreamed of, he was polite and cordial, something he'd never been towards her before. The kiss between them had been pure bliss, beginning their frenzied past couple of days.

Hermione had been caught in a daydream, and much to her dismay, she was quickly waking up.

The sound of an apparation caught both of the witches attentions. Hermione didn't even have to glance at him to know Malfoy was there.

"Get the fuck out of my house you evil prick!" Ginny screamed, pointing her wand towards him. Her bat bogey hex was legendary, and Hermione half hoped he remembered that.

"Not until Granger gives me a chance to explain myself." He replied calmly. This only proved to rile the redhead further.

"No way in hell, Malfoy. I don't know what you did, but she clearly doesn't want to be near you right now. Fuck off." She spat venomously.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She stood up, ignoring both of their stares, and calmly walked to her room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

As soon as she got to her room, Hermione changed out of her uniform and into a tank top and sweatpants. She couldn't deal with regular clothing. She let down her hair, before collapsing upon her bed. Hermione sat with unseeing eyes, staring at her door. She was only offered two minutes of solitude until she heard a frantic knocking on the wood. She groaned, not in the mood to fight. She was still pissed at Malfoy, but her anger was slowly beginning to dissipate. She'd never been the type to hold a grudge, but he had led her to believe that they were equals, that her blood didn't matter.

Clearly, it did.

"Granger, open up." Malfoy called, his muffled voice still managing to send a shudder of pleasure down her spine. She ignored both him and the effect he had on her. Just because she wasn't as mad, she wasn't going to give into him. Not yet.

"Hermione, please."

Her name combined with that soft plea was enough to make the last of her resolve drift away. Her legs shook as she walked towards the door, goosebumps raising her skin. He had probably never said 'please' before either. The fact that she reduced him to say the simple word had her inner goddess glowing in triumph. She steeled herself, turning her features into her best poker face, and opened the door.

Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe, one hand raised as though he was going to knock again, the other was running through his hair. His messy blond tresses fell into his grey eyes as he looked down at her. There was no emotion on his face, much like her own. Only an indifference that made Hermione want to close the door again.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She asked, her voice borderline monotone.

"Give me a chance to explain myself." He said simply. He hadn't made a single movement, his stance was relaxed yet guarded. Somehow to Hermione it felt as though his presence had effectively taken over the room. She sighed, knowing she'd eventually have to hear him out.

"Fine." She walked back to her bed, sitting delicately upon the covers. He stood opposite her and watched as she situated herself. She felt unnerved by his stare, as though he was scrutinizing her every movement. There was also a strange thrill from being watched no matter how mundane the task. She decidedly ignored that feeling. Looking into his eyes, she waited expectantly for him to begin.

"You misinterpreted what I said." He began, "When I said that blood didn't matter to me, I meant it. While I don't think I'll ever be friends with a muggle or even a squib, I've come to accept that they have their own place in the world. One of the first reasons I began to doubt blood supremacy, was when I was researching a bit of family history to improve my business. It turns out that my family not only dealt business with muggles, but also married some of the highest nobility." This made Hermione gasp. The Malfoy's had married muggles? Royal or not, they were still non-magical people. He ignored her, and continued.

"It was with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy that my family cut off all ties with muggles, and believed they were inferior. I suppose that ever since, we've remained pure and self-entitled. Just that alone, to know that I might have muggle blood in me, even if it was centuries ago, was enough to make me rethink blood supremacy. There was more, though. During the war, all I could think about was how I had been taught to believe that muggles and muggleborn's blood was dirty and polluted. But whenever I saw a muggleborn bleeding from some kind of injury, it was surprising to see that it all looked the same. There was no difference. Pure bloods bled next to muggleborns and it was impossible to tell who's blood was who's. That was my wake up call." He looked at her to see how she was reacting. Hermione's eyes were wide, her breathing was irregular. Sometimes she forgot that he had seen as much death as her. He was in the war, just on the wrong side.

"You can continue." She said after a breath. She was still in shock. Malfoy really didn't care about blood. He truly didn't. It wasn't that she didn't believe him when he said it before, it was just startling to realize what had caused his views. Hermione had to believe that was one of the very few positives that came out of the war.

"When I said that I wasn't going to take orders from you, it was in reference to my terms I suppose. I really think you should look at them. Now would be great. We can go over any questions you may have." Malfoy said all of that nearly to himself, as though convincing himself that's what he should do. Hermione could only watch as he left the room only to return moments later with a rather large envelope.

"I should warn you, it may be a bit. . .hard to believe at first. If you have any questions, I'm right here." with great reluctance, he handed it to her. Hermione ripped the envelope open, ignoring the racing of her heart. Her hands were trembling slightly as she began to read.

 **CONTRACT**

Made this day of _ 2001

 **BETWEEN**

MR. DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY ("Dominant")

MISS HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER ("Submissive")

 **THE PARTIES AGREE AS FOLLOWS**

The following are terms of a binding contract between the Dominant and the Submissive.

 **FUNDAMENTAL TERMS**

The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the submissive to explore her sensuality and her limits safely, with due respect and regard for her needs, her limits, and her well-being.

The Dominant and Submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential, and subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set out in this contract.

Any breach of this contract will result in a void. This contract will never be offered twice.

As consequence of the breach of this contract, both parties will not be allowed to be bound under a second contract. Any sexual affairs that are to occur between both bound to the contract is to be severed all together.

 **ROLES**

The Dominant shall take responsibility for the well-being and the proper training, guidance, and discipline of the Submissive. He shall decide the nature of such training, guidance, and discipline and the time and place of its administration, subject to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed additionally.

If at any time the Dominant should fail to keep to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed additionally, the Submissive is entitled to terminate this contract forthwith and to leave the service of the Dominant without notice.

The Submissive is to serve and obey the Dominant in all things. Subject to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract, she shall without query or hesitation offer the Dominant such pleasure as he may require and she shall accept without query or hesitation his training, guidance, and discipline in whatever form it may take.

Hermione stopped reading, staring at Malfoy with wide eyes. Her heart was pounding within her chest, her breathing ragged. Thousands of questions raced through her mind, barely comprehensible.

Holy Fuck.

Her head was buzzing. How could she ever agree to something like this? And to think that it was all purely for her own benefit, to _explore her sensuality._ That meant he would be using her body, for sex. She was pretty much a living, breathing sex doll. Hermione scoffed, hardly able to contain herself. To serve and obey in all things? That wasn't going to sit well with her, she could tell. It would be humiliating to agree to give everything to Malfoy. But one thought kept replaying over and over in her head.

Draco Malfoy was a Dom? As in, he wanted to use her body whenever and however he wanted and she would just go along with it? She'd admit she'd seen the signs last night, and he'd taken much pleasure in spanking her, but to actually see that he was solely into BDSM. . .

Hermione needed a drink.

"Before you say anything, you may want to read this part." Malfoy said, taking the papers from her hands. He flipped through while she sat on the bed and stared at him, trying to figure out how he had become this way.

Malfoy was arrogant and proud as a child, so was this his way of reiterating it? No, Hermione thought, he was a bully and let everyone know it. She also didn't think it'd be something so close to the surface. It must have been something deeper. Was he abused and this was his way of showing dominance? Maybe. Malfoy was pretty much born with his life plotted out, so perhaps this was his one way of exercising control when he lacked it in every other area in his life?

She really needed to stop getting this in-depth into theoretical reasons why Malfoy was a Dominant and wanted her to be his Submissive. She shuddered, just from the sound of the word. What she couldn't decipher, and didn't spend any time thinking about, was whether it was from revulsion or anticipation.

He handed the papers back to her. It took Hermione a few moments before she fully read what was on the page, her mind going over and over the information.

 **SUBMISSIVE**

The Submissive accepts the Dominant as her master, with the understanding that she is now the property of the Dominant, to be dealt with as the Dominant pleases during the Term generally but specifically during the Allotted Times and any additional agreed allotted times.

The Submissive shall obey the rules (at this Hermione rolled her eyes)

The Submissive shall serve the Dominant in any way the Dominant sees fit and shall endeavor to please the Dominant at all times to the best of her ability.

The Submissive shall take all measures necessary to maintain her good health and shall request or seek medical attention whenever it is needed, keeping the Dominant informed at all times of any health issues that may arise.

The Submissive will take a contraceptive potion as well as make sure to cast a disease charm on herself before every session.

The Submissive shall accept without question any and all disciplinary actions deemed necessary by the Dominant and remember her status and role in regard to the Dominant at all times.

The Submissive shall not touch or pleasure herself sexually without permission from the Dominant.

The Submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Dominant and shall do so without hesitation or argument.

The Submissive shall accept whippings, floggings, spankings, canings, paddlings, or any other discipline the Dominant should decide to administer, without hesitation, inquiry, or complaint.

The Submissive shall not look directly into the eyes of the Dominant except when specifically instructed to do so. The Submissive shall keep her eyes cast down and maintain a quiet and respectful bearing in the presence of the Dominant.

The Submissive shall always conduct herself in a respectful manner to the Dominant and shall address him only as Sir, Mr. Malfoy, or such other title as the Dominant may direct.

The Submissive will not touch the Dominant without his express permission to do so.

Hermione looked at Malfoy with wide eyes. She didn't know what to make of this. She really didn't. None of this made sense. He wanted her to be his sex slave? That's really what this all sounded like. What's with this 'not allowed to look him in the eye' business? That was one of the only ways Hermione could get even a glimpse as to what he might be thinking. She wasn't allowed to touch him? After this she didn't think she'd ever want to again.

"What is this?" Hermione demanded.

"My terms and conditions." He replied simply. His body was tensed, posed in a deceptively relaxed stance. She could practically feel the tension exuding from him.

"Your _terms?_ Is this what you meant by casual relationship the other day?" She couldn't wrap her head around any of this.

"Sort of. I knew you would be hesitant after seeing this. I don't really know why your reacting this way. If I do recall correctly, I've already restrained and punished you. You did like it when I did that to you. Denial or not." His grey eyes hardened as he studied her. Hermione closed her mouth which had been hanging open in shock at his words.

"But that was different!" She sputtered. That had been nice. Well, not necessarily _nice,_ but it had been pleasant, an in-the-heat-of-the-moment kind of nice.

"I don't see how." Malfoy said before standing right in front of her. He reached out, his hand roughly grabbing onto her chin forcing her to look up at him. Hermione felt a rush of heat spread throughout her body, much to her dismay. His hand stroked along her jaw before tangling itself in her hair. All the while, his face was calm, his lips pressed together in a firm line, his storm-grey eyes narrowed.

"You like it when I do this." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a statement.

Carefully, he tugged at her hair, forcing her to stand. She stared up at him, wide-eyed. What the hell was he going to do?

"I do not feel comfortable with the idea of this." Hermione said at last. Her voice was small as she stood fearfully, waiting for his outburst. He sighed.

"And what is the idea you have in your head?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged.

"Forgive me for saying this, Miss Granger," Malfoy began. "but you do not know what you are missing by your microscopic examination of sexual activity. You exclude from it aspects which are fuel that ignites the flame of passion. Intellectual, imaginative, romantic, emotional. This is what gives sex its surprising textures, its subtle transformations, its aphrodisiac elements. You are shrinking your world of sensations. You are withering it, starving it, draining its blood. Let me show you what true satisfaction can feel like."

Malfoy slammed his lips down on hers. Hermione was at a loss for what to say. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself to his touch. He had yet to lay a finger on her, and yet she felt her body growing warmer and warmer. A whisper of arousal swept through her system. She didn't want to acknowledge it. That would mean knowing that she enjoyed his sick preference. Though Hermione had to admit, the more she thought about Malfoy's hands roughly grabbing her and both pleasuring and punishing her, the less she felt repulsed and more aroused. She imagined Malfoy taking her over his knee again and a violent shudder rippled through her. A deep chuckle reverberated against her feverish skin as Malfoy took in her body's reaction. He knew what he was doing to her.

He knew she liked it just as much as him.

She moaned in satisfaction as one of his hands reached down to pull at her nipples.

It was as though there was a change in the air. Hermione felt it seconds before Malfoy roughly pushed her onto the bed.

"So Granger, are you willing to feel what it's like to surrender yourself completely to me? This is not a fantasy, not a theory, not something read and masturbated over, but something very real, very visceral, and very now. It's something _more._ " Malfoy stood at the edge of the bed, waiting for her answer. He looked as though he was ready to pounce on her. The look of pure lust and anticipation had her quivering beneath him.

She could do nothing more than nod.

With her unspoken acquiescence, he pulled her up, her knees automatically folding beneath her so she was kneeling on the bed before him. His lips roughly came down to claim her. He pulled her up, her knees automatically folding beneath her so she was kneeling on the bed before him. His lips roughly came down to claim her. He wasted no time on her shirt, tearing the fabric until it was nothing more than torn cotton. She wasn't wearing a bra. He pulled away, eyeing her bare breasts and frowning slightly as he took in her sweatpants. She felt embarrassment flutter through her. They weren't exactly the sexiest clothes she owned, and they were muggle.

He let her get up momentarily, quickly pulling her sweats down. She was nearly trembling now. She didn't know what he was going to do to her, and she didn't know how she was going to feel about it. This was all so new. So foreign to her. Perhaps that was exactly why she was so fascinated by it; she now had a glimpse into a world only ever dreamt of or read in books.

Free of her clothing, he had her sitting back down on the bed once more. Wordlessly, he had her restrained against the bed, the invisible bonds holding Hermione in place. He climbed over her, holding himself centimeters away from her. Hermione raised her head as far as it would go against the bonds, but it still wasn't enough.

"Someone's eager." Malfoy chuckled. " Patience, Granger."

A sharp knock at the door resounded throughout the room. Both of them froze, hearts racing.

"Malfoy get off of Hermione!" A voice screamed. Hermione's heart stopped.

It was Ron.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Hermione groaned, in no mood to face to Ron. That damn man had the worst possible timing. She knew without a doubt that Harry was most likely beside Ron, just being far more subdued. She tried in vain to ignore the rampant knocking and harsh epithets being thrown through the door, telling herself that Ron wasn't actually there. She sighed and looked at Draco. His eyes were hard and cold, a stormy grey swirling in their depths as he glared at the door. He locked eyes with her, his frustration evident.

"I'll leave. I want you to apparate to my flat as soon as you're done with _him._ " He spat the last word. Hermione nodded before pausing. She felt the bonds lift, and she sat up on the bed, covering herself modestly.

"I don't know your London address." She admitted sheepishly. In the past few days she had never gone to his place. She felt a shudder as she contemplated just how fast their relationship (if you could call it that) was moving. Her heart dropped as she thought about how Ron and Harry would react. She knew she would have to tell them. Tonight. Hastily, Malfoy helped her redress, patting down her hair to make it less of a crow's nest.

"You know where Knightsbridge is, right? It's in muggle London. Floo to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. We can walk from there." Malfoy replied. Hermione glanced at him wearily. Why couldn't they just floo to his place directly?

"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" He asked at last. His grey eyes narrowed skeptically. She violently shook her head no.

"Good. If you're not at my place in an hour and a half, I will come back to collect you." His voice was authoritative, holding no room for opposition. She wanted to protest, but her defiance was caught in her throat. She smirked and thought of how to play into his little game.

"Yes, sir." She lowered her voice, giving it a more husky quality. His grey eyes hardened as he looked down at her. Malfoy roughly grabbed her chin before giving her a chaste kiss that filled Hermione with wanting and need. He smirked, his stormy eyes glinting, before he dissapparated.

Hermione breathed deeply, hoping to quell the nerves that were rising within her. Her stomach dropped to her knees as she prepared herself for her friend's onslaught of questions. With each inhale she felt her nerves get tighter and she knew that any relaxation was futile. She could still hear Ron ranting with a lengthy list of expletives.

Hermione walked as calmly as she could manage towards the door. She could do this. She could manage a small conversation with her best friends.

 _I. Can. Do. This._

Without any further delay, she opened her door only to face one very pissed off red-head and a pair of angry jade orbs shielded by a famous metal frame..

 _Fuck._

"Hello Harry, Ron. What are you two doing here?" She asked as nonchalantly as she could manage. Ron scoffed, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You know damn well what the fuck we're doing here, 'Mione." Ron spat. He stormed past her into her room. She fully took in his appearance and frowned. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair unkempt. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in days. Dark rings that were eerily reminiscent of bruises shadowed his dull eyes.

Harry looked better off, but barely. His hair was parted as neatly as usual, his suit was pressed and his pants creased. Yet the tears and mud at the hem as well as the scuffed shoes indicated that he wasn't any better than Ron. To anyone else who glanced at Harry, he would look normal, but to those close to him, they knew he was a wreck. Harry was a shoe collector of sorts and would never waste a pair of vintage Gucci loafers like the pair he wore presently. Yet the mud was caked on thick, as though it had been there for days. His glasses had a sliver of a crack running through them, and a small piece of clear tape was holding the metal frame together on the side.

Hermione sighed, muttering the spell to fix his glasses. _One would think he'd remember it._ He didn't even give her with the slightest glimpse of gratitude, merely a look of cold indifference.

"You don't even know what's going on, Ronald." She sighed. This was going to be just as difficult as she imagined it would be. He whipped his head around to look at her, his eyes a blazing fury. _Shit._

"We don't know what's going on? We got a call from Ginny who filled us in on everything. So yes, we do know what's going on. That Malfoy fucker is going to pay." Ron growled. The famous Weasely temper was flaring in white-hot rage. He was seething.

"What did Ginny tell you?" Hermione inquired. She wasn't going to let her flatemate out of this one very easily. While she would have phoned Harry and Ron if Ginny was attacked, she wouldn't inform them of her personal life. Hermione felt the slightest bit of betrayal towards the redhead.

"That you were attacked at St. Mungos, and Malfoy was behind it." He spat. Wait, What?

Hermione felt her shoulders sag in semi-relief. No wonder they wanted to kill him. They thought _Malfoy_ attacked her. She nearly laughed.

"Ronald Weasely, listen to me when I say that Malfoy did not harm me in any way. Did Ginny tell you that, or is that what you assumed?" She waited, only to be greeted by silence. That's what she thought. They had just concluded that Malfoy was the reason she was in the hospital.

"I was attacked by a patient who had some kind of spell or charm on him that caused him to become rabid. I don't know the cause, and a simple _stupefy_ killed him, but he bit me. That's all." Hermione was so sick of this already. Granted it wasn't a normal day, it was still far too _interesting_ for her liking.

"Then why was Malfoy there when you woke up, if not to make sure you died? What would he want with you?" Harry accused. Hermione felt severely out numbered in this battle. She sighed, gathering up her Gryffindor courage and called for Ginny to join them in her room. All of them might as well be present for her declaration. She was absolutely terrified for their reactions.

"The reason Malfoy was beside me was because I wanted him there. Before I was administered a room, apparently I asked for him to be informed of my attack. I don't know why I didn't ask for you, and I'm sorry." She looked at the ground, unable to take Ron's accusing glare.

"Why did you ask for him, 'Mione?" Harry asked softly. His voice was firm, but his eyes were softening with the whispers of betrayal. He knew. She hesitated, and in that small pause, a mix of clarification and horror dawned on Ron's face.

"I asked for him because-"

"You're seeing him. Aren't you?" Ron accused. The silence that followed hung in the air, filled with unbearable tension. Hermione could do nothing but slightly nod her head. Ron's eyes went from bulging to watering in mere seconds. He looked as though someone had told him his family had died.

But she supposed that's how he felt towards her. With that single venomous glint shining maliciously in his blue eyes, she came to the shattering realization. She was now dead to him. Her heart plummeted towards her feet. Her breathing barely contained within short, sporadic bursts. Outwardly, her expression hadn't changed, nor had her body language, but her mental and emotional state had shifted on an axis. It was like losing Ron all over again. First with the betrayal of not being able to love him enough, now with her rather startling declaration.

"I don't see how it's of any concern to you. What happens in my private affairs is of no business to any of you. Please respect that." Hermione sighed. She felt a migraine pushing its way towards the front of her temples. Ginny put a hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

"We understand that, 'Mione, we do. I'm just wondering, well I'm sure we're all wondering, is why _Malfoy_ of all people? Sure, he's attractive," Ginny rolled her eyes at the glare Harry sent her way and continued, "but it's not like you. Frankly, We're worried about you." Ron looked as though he wanted to protest, but his sister elbowed him hard in the ribs causing him to wince and close his mouth.

"I don't know why I feel the things I do towards him, but the feelings are present nonetheless. Upon the discovery that they were mutual, we decided it would be a good idea to form a relationship of sorts to see where these feelings led us." Hermione fibbed. So it wasn't exactly what had happened, but it was close enough to the truth so she didn't feel that guilt of lying. She knew her friends were just looking out for her, but she didn't want to delve into her reasoning. Not yet, preferably never.

"Calm down, Ron. If that's her reasoning, we can't interfere." Harry tried to get his friend to listen, but knew it was futile.

"How long have you been seeing each other? Hell, how long have you been friends?" Ron demanded, shaking Harry off of him. Hermione swallowed nervously.

"Not very long." She muttered. The redhead scoffed.

"You're damn right it hasn't been that long. Just last week when I was saying how I bumped into him, you had entirely forgotten he existed. Now you're fucking each other." Ron shouted.

That was it. Hermione felt every bit of will to maintain peace snap. Within seconds she was before her seething friend, her palm stinging. A small, Hermione-shaped handprint blazed bright red on Ron's already enraged face. Hermione stared in horror as her brain fully comprehended what she had just done.

"You fucking crazy bitch!" Ron screeched, gingerly touching his cheek. Hermione glared at him. She was going to apologize, but now she felt reminded as to why she hadn't done so immediately.

"Ron, go home." Ginny demanded. Ron sputtered incredulously at his sister.

"But she's the one who's the problem!" He pointed an accusatory finger in Hermione's direction. Her eyes narrowed.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House. I will not tolerate any violence. You need to calm down." Ginny began tapping her foot on the ground, her arms folded in a look of utter impatience.

Grumbling, Ron glared at everyone before storming out of the room. The three of them waited with baited breath until the sounds of the floo echoed inside the flat. Hermione exhaled sharply, unaware she had been holding her breath.

"So, would anyone care for some tea?" Ginny asked jovially. It was still strange to Hermione how the redhead hadn't drilled her yet, but she decided it was for the best. She and Harry nodded before exiting her room. They followed Ginny to the kitchen and sat opposite each other at the small table.

Harry picked up the _Daily Prophet_ that was sitting out, his face contorting into shades of sorrow.

"Poor Oliver. I know Olivia wasn't biologically his, but the fact that both she and Arthur were murdered is probably killing him. And it's the doing of Death Eaters no less. Poor bloke probably feels like he can't escape the War. Have either of you owled him yet?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head no, but Ginny nodded.

"I sent one as soon as I read the papers. Skeeter's a bint though. She thought that Romilda and Oliver actually had Olivia. She really didn't know she was adopted." the redhead grumbled.

"Yeah, that on top of making it sound as though Arthur was Oliver's son. Damn woman can't even get the family relations right. Is it really so hard to guess that they're brothers? I mean, Romilda is only two years older than him." Harry agreed.

Hermione smiled in amusement. The stupidity of that mindless reporter never ceased to astound her. She really did loathe that woman.

The sound of the floo brought the three friends' attention towards the fireplace. Malfoy stepped into the living room, brushing off stray bits of rubble from his shirt.

"Malfoy." Harry greeted tightly. The blond looked up, his eyes locking with the childhood bane of his existence.

"Potter." Malfoy reciprocated. His voice didn't hold the intense bitterness it used to, but the dislike was still evident.

Harry stepped forward, his hand outstretched. Malfoy seemed to hesitate for a moment before shaking it. Though no words were exchanged, both men took the gesture as a sort of peace agreement. Malfoy looked to Hermione then, effectively stealing any breath she may have had. Mercurial eyes locked onto her own, causing a languid warmth to flow throughout her body.

"I've come to collect Hermione." Malfoy answered their unspoken question. Hermione's cheeks flushed as she recalled their activities prior to being interrupted.

"I'm sorry for leaving you guys, we have a date." Hermione bluffed. She crossed the room to stand beside him. Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"After everything that's happened, you're taking her on a date?" She asked Malfoy.

"We decided that some time over dinner to talk about what happened would be best." He politely responded. He gave her an approving look for her fib. The redhead still wasn't convinced but didn't say anything further.

"Dress up, I want to take you somewhere special tonight." Malfoy whispered so only she could hear. She nodded her head, anticipation bubbling in her system.

"That's alright, Ginny. It just means we have the night to ourselves." Harry purred. Hermione felt sick as the blatant innuendo hung in the air. She really didn't want to concern herself with what they were sure to be doing later. She shivered in revulsion, and instead turned towards the fireplace. Malfoy had already left, choosing to flee the moment any hint of romanticism was on display.

After quickly changing, Hermione walked towards the fireplace, hoping to leave while her two friends were distracted. She grabbed a handful of the floo powder and shouted the address with restrained excitement.

"Mandarin Oriental Hotel."

Hermione stepped out of the green flames and looked around. She was instantly grateful she changed before leaving her flat. The Valentino maxi she wore felt like water against her skin as the red silk cascaded down her delicate form. The backless halter style was elegant, and small pave diamonds decorated the waistline. A diamond bracelet adorned her left wrist. A single drop pendant necklace was the only other jewelry she wore. A slit on her right leg went up to her thigh, showcasing her long legs whenever she walked. Nude coloured Louboutin's added the height she severely lacked.

The lobby she landed in was an alternate to the muggle one, yet just as grand. Marble floors and walls reflected the light of the three massive crystal chandeliers. The sound of rushing water indicated a fountain was behind her. The seating placed around the lobby was coloured tastefully in hues of cream and beige. Tropical red flowers were dispersed atop ebony stone tables. She turned around to admire the fountain, but found herself no less than three feet away from Malfoy.

Hermione gasped as she drank in the sight of him. She hadn't noticed it previously, but his hair was slightly damp. Nonetheless, the snowy tresses fell rakishly into place, perfecting his 'billionaire bad boy' persona. He was wearing a simple white dress shirt, but the burberry insignia betrayed its value. Simple onyx cufflinks caught the light as he lightly traced her jawline. Goosebumps spread across her skin as a shiver ran down her spine. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, betraying her sudden nervousness. His signature cologne permeated the air around them. His scent was intoxicating, and she repressed the near-uncontrollable urge to sigh.

"You look beautiful." Malfoy complimented. Hermione's inner goddess glowed from the compliment. A shy blush stained her cheeks.

"You look handsome yourself." She replied. And it was true. The dress pants he wore hung low off of his hips in _that_ way, and his dragon leather belt was adorned with a shining Versace buckle. Gucci dragon leather loafers, along with a single ring on his pinkie helped complete his ensemble.

"My apartment is just next door. I booked one of the dining rooms for us." Malfoy placed his arm out, and she took it gracefully. She didn't even bother to go over his words. It would take her a while to become accustomed to his wealth. As Hermione walked beside him, she was grateful for the extra stability. Walking in stilettos had never been an easy feat for her. They exited the lobby, the London air cooling down her overheated skin. All around them, the muggle nightlife was in full swing. Women in expensive furs accompanied men in fine, Italian leather, while children ran along the streets ignoring the calls of their parents.

There was something about the night that evoked a sensual danger and mysterious urgency all at once. It allowed for activities that normally couldn't be pursued in the light of day. The darkness offers that veil of privacy, the feeling of something forbidden, allowing secrets to thrive and temptation to slake its thirst.

Echoes of laughter swarm around them, blending into the overall symphony of nightlife. A small girl was running away from her brother who'd managed to cover himself in ice cream. Hermione watched the display with amusement, until the little girl ran into Malfoy. The girl halted, her small auburn curls standing out against her pale complexion. Her green eyes were wide as she looked at Malfoy. Hermione glanced at her date, who was looking at the girl with a puzzled expression. He looked to be fighting an internal battle.

"I'm sorry, mister, I wasn't looking." The little girl apologized before sucking on her thumb. Her big, green eyes never left Malfoy. Hermione felt him sigh before kneeling down before the girl, a dazzling smile lighting up his face.

"It's alright, just try to be more careful. Do you know where your parents are?" He asked. She nodded, pointing towards a women behind them who was wrestling with her son. She was calling out the girl's name, Clara.

"I don't have a daddy. He died last year." Clara's eyes became very sad as she looked at Malfoy. Hermione felt her heart break for the child before her. She was too innocent, too young to experience such loss.

"I'm sorry, Clara. I'm sure your mother would love to have you back to her, though. Want to come with me?" Malfoy took the little girl's hand before guiding her over to her mother.

Hermione was watching the exchange with curiosity. Her heart warmed within her chest. A strange fondness overcame her as she watched him interact with the child. He was about to leave when Clara tugged on his pant leg. He bent down, and she cupped her mouth, whispering something in his ear. He smiled, looking at Hermione, before whispering something to her. The girl giggled, the sound like cascading water. Hermione's interest was now piqued, but she didn't disturb him.

There was something about seeing him interact with the girl that made her long for something like that for herself. Her heart ached at the sight of him smiling to the giggling girl. He said something to the mother, who gaped at him in shock. Tears formed in the woman's eyes as she hugged her children joyously. She laughed, tears falling from her eyes. Malfoy looked uncomfortable to say the least, but he didn't look surprised by the reaction. What was going on?

After saying goodbyes, Malfoy strode towards her, a weight visibly lifting off of his shoulders. He trailed a hand down her arm before entwining their palms. His bigger hand encompassed hers perfectly. He looked down at her, a wistful expression on his face. His hair shaded his intense eyes, as a smirk played on his lips.

"What was that about?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"I just gave her mother a few thousand pounds." He replied nonchalantly. Hermione gaped, staring at him disbelievingly. Where was the Slytherin git she used to know? She never would have expected him to do something so. . .selfless.

"Why?" She sputtered at last. His eyes narrowed slightly, his other hand lightly lifting her chin. Electricity ran through her system, the heat of his fingertips igniting her cool skin.

"There was something about that girl that reminded me of you." Was his cryptic response.

"Of me?" Her voice came out higher than she intended. Why had he given that woman a few _thousand_ pounds just because the little girl reminded him of her?

"She had an innocence that paralleled yours. The money was to ensure it stays that way." He shrugged, as though the whole ordeal was a regular occurrence.

"But Malfoy, I just don't understand-"

"Miss Granger, I will do what I wish with my money. If you have any problems with my spending habits, you can complain about it later. The money is already gone, and I wish to spend this evening with you without any anger." His stormy eyes bore into her own, spreading a heat throughout her that warmed her to the core. She nodded, suddenly feeling very foolish. She really had no place to tell him how to spend his money. She would probably hex someone if they told her what to do with it.

"Now, Miss Granger, shall we?" He asked. Malfoy held out his arm once more. Hermione revelled in the feel of his muscles through the silky material. Heat poured through the thin fabric, warming her. She kept up with his confident strides with ease. She noticed the attention he was attracting, yet her inner goddess glowed at the amount of looks she was getting as well.

"Where are we going?" They had hardly walked more than a hundred feet before Malfoy turned into another building. Hermione felt butterflies dance in her stomach as she registered where she was.

 _There's no way._. .

She looked at the Slytherin, but he avoided her gaze. As soon as they stepped into the foyer, she was in awe. Dark floors, silk paneling, and ambient lighting from handmade glass chandeliers captivated her. Industrial sculptures were placed beside ancient treasures creating the perfect juxtaposition. There was no denying where this was. The blond guided her through the lobby, taking her straight to their destination.

"Have you ever been here before? You have that look on your face." Malfoy spoke softly, eyeing her with suspicion. Hermione only wished she'd been able to step in here previously.

"No, but I've heard of it. Who hasn't? I mean, you live in _the_ One Hyde Park. You could have told me." Hermione breathed. She couldn't properly form a sentence that portrayed her thoughts accurately. She blamed the building and the man to her right. Hermione still couldn't get over it. Draco Malfoy, born with a silver spoon and power, and ex-Death Eater status, lived in one of the most expensive addresses in the world. She'd read about it briefly when it was being constructed. Just a four bedroom apartment cost upwards of 250 million pounds. She knew he was wealthy, but this was like a slap in the face to realize just _how_ wealthy her former classmate was.

For the lack of a better explanation, she was mindfucked.

Malfoy smirked at her expression before guiding her to a set of frosted glass double doors. He cleared his throat and two men simultaneously appeared and opened the door in sync. Hermione stepped within the private dining area, struck by the air of intimacy. The only table in the room was lit by a small candelabra. Red rose petals were scattered atop the crisp linen surface, scenting the air with their oils. Malfoy pulled out her chair, a gesture she didn't know he had in him, then sat opposite her. The moment they are seated, a waiter appears.

"Bonjour, my name is Claude and I'll be your waiter for the night. May I start off by presenting our wine menu?" He places the small, framed paper before Malfoy, who hardly glances at the list.

"Is Sancarre alright?" he asked her, grey eyes smoldering in the low lighting. Hermione meekly nodded her head. The waiter takes the small list and leaves.

"I've already ordered. I hope you don't mind." His grey eyes twinkled mischievously. His infamous smirk played on his lips. Of course he had. Hermione had to resist the temptation to roll her eyes.

"They have an excellent wine cellar here. It's one of the many things that attracted me to the place." Malfoy explained. Putting his elbows on the table, he clasped his hands together in front of his mouth, his eyes alive with an unreadable expression.

All at once she felt the pull and electric charge flash through her body awakening every inch of her. Nerve endings danced in awareness. It all connected somewhere deep inside of her, consuming her with its unwavering strength. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, her heart gradually pick up its speed. She breathed deeply, hoping to calm herself down.

"Are you nervous. Miss Granger?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Hermione replied honestly. He leaned forward slightly, the soft lights shading and framing his face.

"Good." His voice was low, husky. Hermione blinked. What was that supposed to mean? She narrowed her gaze. What was he playing at?

The waiter arrived before she could ask for elaboration. He placed their wine before them, along with a basket of bread and oil dipping sauce.

"You're food should be out shortly." Claude says, his words accented by his thick French accent.

"Are you purposefully giving me a reason to be nervous, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked as soon as he left. His grey eyes were alight with amusement. The corner of his lips pulled upwards in the faintest of smiles.

"Don't I always, Miss Granger?" Was his reply. This time she did roll her eyes.

"Your modesty is most astounding, Malfoy." Sarcasm dripped from her words.

"It is one of my finer qualities. I've always been known for it." He smirked at her.

Oh my. Playful Malfoy is one she hasn't really gotten to know yet, and it was a mysteriously tempting side. She took a sip from her wine, needing the distraction from her overreacting hormones. It was cool, and crisp, and absolutely delicious. She didn't know her wines very well, but she could tell this was expensive.

"Don't bite your lip." He growled, his voice low. Hermione looked up, gasping at the pure lust swirling in his storm-grey eyes.

"Do you do that on purpose?" He asked, taking a sip of his wine. Hermione shook her head. He looked like he didn't believe her, but he didn't press her. That reminded her of what she wanted to ask him previously.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was small. Her heart pounded as she thought about what she was going to ask of him.

"Yes, Granger?" He was curious now, she could tell.

"I was wondering if you would be open to revising some of your. . . um. . . contract." She said at last. She took another sip of her wine before chewing on a piece of bread. She needed something to distract her from looking at his eyes.

"What would you like to change about it?" He asked. Hermione looked up at him in bewilderment. He wasn't mad? She was sure he would be. Startled by his openness, she struggled to think of what to bring up first.

"Well for starters, why can't I look at you?" She asked, genuinely curious. She had no real prior knowledge to this secret, kinky world he played in, and she couldn't go to Ginny for questions. She suddenly felt very young again for asking such a trivial thing. He didn't mock her however, and for that she was grateful. He merely answered her question.

"It's standard in a Dom/Sub relationship. Think of it kind of like how peasants couldn't look nobility in the eye, except there's a mutual respect and connection for both parties. That's the simplest way I can put it." His long, lean fingers played with the stem of his crystal glass as he spoke.

Oh, so she was a peasant now? While she'd admit that deep inside of her, a part of her clenched in anticipation, her subconscious was ranting about how sexist it all was. Yet with a single look at the blond sitting across from her, she knew this wouldn't be like his analogy at all. No. She could feel the chemistry buzzing around them as the sexual tension hung thick in the air, waiting to be noticed. She knew that she would be treated as an equal.

"What else did you want to know about?" He asked, his grey eyes cool.

Just then the waiter appeared with their first dish. Oysters. Hermione looked at the plate before her, before glancing at Malfoy. He was watching her, a bemused expression on her face.

"Have you ever had an oyster before?"

"No."

She watched as he took one, squeezed some lemon juice, and tipped back his head. He hummed in satisfaction, causing Hermione to unconsciously squeeze her legs together. He was making fun of her. Dick.

Defiantly, she took one of the oysters, and mimicked his movements. She was about to eat it when she paused. How does one eat an oyster? It was never a question she concerned herself with before, obviously. Malfoy chuckled as if reading her thoughts.

"You don't chew it. Just tip it back and swallow. I assume you know how to do that." If there was any question of him mocking her before, it was undeniably obvious now. She glared at him before doing just as he instructed. The taste of the sea invaded her mouth, the lemon nearly an afterthought. She took a sip of wine, deciding that she liked the taste.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked. He was gazing at her with hooded eyes. _Fuck_.

"I'll have another." Hermione said shyly, taking another from the pile.

"Good girl, Granger."

Her inner goddess sung happily at the praise.

"You never answered my previous question." Malfoy said before taking a sip of wine. Hermione had nearly forgotten all about it.

"I have three more questions." She replied.

"I thought you might." Malfoy muttered. She sent a glare his way before continuing.

"My first question is about the punishment. I'm not entirely sure if I'm comfortable with whipping, or flogging, or anything like that." Hermione muttered honestly. Malfoy's eyes softened.

"Granger, you have to know that there are certain things placed in that contract because it's all based on exploration. Unless you've either been whipped or flogged before, which I know you haven't, I won't take it out of the contract. And as I recall, you did have a particular fondness to spanking." Malfoy's voice was husky as he recalled the memory. Hermione blushed, as a delicious spasm deep in her belly caused her to squirm.

Claude appeared after Malfoy raised his hand slightly in the air. He came and switched out the Oysters for the entree. A lean cut of filet mignon, with buttered mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Hermione delicately picked up the platinum silverware, slowly cutting into the steak. She should have assumed that Malfoy would have good taste in food. She brought a piece to her mouth and moaned in satisfaction. It was tender and juicy, red enough for her taste but not enough to make her wonder how long it was cooked. Malfoy's eyes darkened at the sound. Hermione blushed harder.

"Don't bite your lip." He demanded. Hermione immediately released her bottom lip. Why did he always get so angry when she did that?

"Every time you bite your lip, it makes me want to fuck you." He answered her unasked question. His voice was husky, and oh so seductive.

 _Wow._ That was quite possibly one of the hottest things she'd ever heard. Her breathing became shallow, her heart steadily racing, and she squeezed her thighs together. _._ All that from just his voice. That sly bastard knew what he was doing to her. He had to.

Suddenly, Hermione didn't have an appetite anymore. At least, not for food.

"Eat, Granger." He demanded. Seriously? Was he a telepath or something? How did he know?

"I know because. . ." He began. She rolled her eyes. "You're breathing changed, you're squeezing your legs together, and you're giving me a look that makes me want to fuck you here and now." Hermione blushed again. What was with her blushing so much tonight? She was beginning to get irritable, and her sexual frustration didn't help.

"I'm full." she declared. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You've had three oysters, a quarter of your steak, two bites of mashed potatoes, and none of the asparagus. You can't be full after just that." Jeez. She wasn't aware he was counting. Control Freak.

"But-"

"No buts, Miss Granger." He interrupted. She sighed in frustration.

Almost instantly, she devised a plan. She was going to play the Sex God in his own game. She picked up a piece of the asparagus, took the tip of it in her mouth and sucked before biting it.

If she hadn't been looking him in the eye, she wouldn't have noticed his eyes widen fractionally. His eyes burned mercurial silver. Hermione was beginning to figure out that expression, and decided she liked it. A lot. It was a look of pure, uncontrollable lust. It was the reaffirmation that she wasn't the only one affected by their chemistry. He was just as affected as her.

"I've changed my mind. I hope you're done." He practically growled. Hermione looked up at him innocently, trying her hardest to keep up the charade.

"But I'm eating."

"You just told me you were full, so I'm going off of prior knowledge." He challenged. The look he gave her then nearly made her lose her inhibition. It screamed of a promise that if she defied him, she would get punished. Hermione was panting now, and very, very warm.

"But we haven't had dessert." She countered. Her voice was huskier than she wanted it to be. She mentally frowned at herself.

"You won't be needing a dessert, Miss Granger." He motioned for Claude again, who placed their bottle of wine in a bag before handing it to Malfoy.

"Merci, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening." The two thanked the waiter before standing. Malfoy walked up to her, placing his arm around her waist. She sucked in a breathe as his proximity all but assaulted her senses. His arm was wrapped protectively around her. His hand on her bare back made her tremble as the heat spread throughout her body. She felt as though she was on fire. His lips teased her as he stood just inches away. She needed him. Now.

As if sensing her thoughts, a wicked smile danced on Malfoy's lips. Hermione could feel her arousal heighten from that one simple expression.

"Come on, Granger, we're going upstairs." His words held a promise, a wicked and forbidden promise that she needed him to fulfill with every fibre of her being.

With her unspoken agreement, he guided her towards the elevator.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Hermione could come up with a list of twenty different reasons why she shouldn't follow Malfoy to his apartment, but with each step she took, the reasons became more and more irrelevant. They went from her subconscious screaming at her to turn around, to undecipherable whispers.

She followed him into the swanky elevator bank, his warm palm sending delicious sensation crawling up her spine. He lightly trailed his fingers back and forth along her spine. Her back arched slightly at the feel of his fingertips against her bare skin. The elevators silently slid open, and much to Hermione's confusion, there were no buttons. Malfoy didn't look fazed. He tapped a screen to the right of the doors. Hermione jumped as the screen turned on, and flashed red. Malfoy stepped up to the screen, and Hermione watched with a strange sense of fascination as a retinal scan examined Malfoy. The red light turned green, and the elevator began its ascent.

Electric charge filled the air. Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips, glancing at Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. His lips were pressed into a hard line and he was glaring at the elevator doors. An awareness she had been trying to suppress flared to the surface, demanding attention. Her nerve endings were prickling, demanding contact with the blond to her left.

"Fuck it." He growled. Within seconds, he had her pinned against the wall, his mouth hot and frenzied against her own. He slammed her back against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her long legs were exposed as her dress was pushed up near her waist. Malfoy took advantage of this, using his long, lean fingers to massage dizzying patterns against her skin. Hermione's hands entangled themselves in his hair as she struggled to bring him even closer to her. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of her. Hermione moaned into his mouth. This is what she'd been craving nearly all night. He swallowed her sounds, rhythmically grinding against her. Hermione felt the almost uncontrollable urge to demand him to take her right there, right now.

The elevator dinged, the doors gliding quietly open. Malfoy helped her right herself before dragging her into the hallway. Hermione was smoothing her dress before she looked around. Her eyes widened as she struggled to gain familiarity with his wealth. Cream and beige marble floors met grey, silk panelled walls. Two statues were situated at either ends of the hall. Large paintings covered the walls, each probably costing more than all of Hermione's possessions. Two twin doors were opposite the elevator, and besides the stair doors, were the only ones she could see. Two marble columns flanked either sides of the door, a hand-blown glass chandelier hanging down from a raised point in the ceiling.

"I have the penthouse, so this floor's mine." Malfoy said casually before leading her to the doors. Hermione gaped at him. He sounded so indifferent, but she supposed that he had lived his entire life in luxury, and probably didn't know any better. While Hermione had certainly never had to worry financially all her life, this was a whole new level of affluence that only nobility and purebloods seemed to be able to break.

Malfoy produced a single silver key, turning the lock with ease. She opened both doors simultaneously, completing the dramatic entrance.

Weng furniture, bronze and steel statues, ebony, and plenty more marble greeted her senses. Exotic light fixtures and contemporary, yet classic furniture was placed elegantly all around. For added privacy, slanted vertical slats on the windows prevent outsiders from peering into the apartments. The hall in of itself looked suited for a five-star hotel. The walls were a light satin, to Hermione they were a strange mix or grey, cream, and gold. Each light fixture was different depending on which room you were in. In the entry hall they were cream and rectangular, letting light show from the top and bottom. Each light was fixed onto three long pieces of shining metal, all varying in length. They reminded her of the 1920's.

Malfoy led her down a hallway to her right. On the right was a darkened hallway, whereas on the left, she could glimpse the kitchen. He led her straight into one of the largest rooms she'd ever been in. Three of the four walls were covered in floor to ceiling windows offering one of the most coveted views of Hyde Park.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked, sparing her a glance. Hermione was looking around in awe, and had to focus to do a simple a gesture as nodding. Malfoy's lips pulled into that infuriating smirk that sparked something deep in her belly. She didn't know if she hated his trademark, or found it undeniably sexy.

He strode across the room, sitting in the left-most of the two seating areas. Malfoy eyed her as she strode across the room to sit beside him. The look was giving her made her nervous. It reminded her of how a predator looked seconds before killing its prey.

"What do you think?" He asked. The way he gestured to the room, Hermione had suspicions he wasn't just referencing his home, but his wealth in general. She cleared her throat, making sure she could talk.

"It's big." Was her eloquent response.

"Big?" He quirked an eyebrow, bemused.

"Big."

Hermione was a nervous wreck. He heart was racing, her blood pumping faster and faster. She could hear it rush in her ears. Her breathing was short and shallow, and that was when she reminded herself to breathe. She was nearly quivering with arousal.

She had no doubts he knew of this.

"I want to show you something." He looked at her, an excited gleam in his eye, but she could tell he was nervous. "You don't yet know what you are really in for when it comes to the contract. You can still leave if you'd like, but I think seeing what I have to show you will give you a better idea of what I'm referring to."

Shit, he was talking about the contract. Hermione swallowed nervously, nodding her head. She followed him down the grand hallway, and led her to the other side of the flat. He stopped before the last door on the right, pulling out his wand.

" _Alohamora._ " He muttered. He took a deep breath, his stance tense.

"You can leave anytime. The fireplace is connected to the floo. You can spend the night also, it's fine whatever you decide." Malfoy hesitantly placed a hand on the doorknob, while the other was fisted at his side. Hermione had never seen him so tense.

"Just open the damn door, Malfoy." She snapped. Her nerves causing a riot of sensations. She felt her head swim.

He turned the platinum knob, leading her inside the room. He closed the door behind them and turned on the lights. The only comprehensible thought Hermione had was a single harsh epithet.

 _Holy Fuck._

Dark European oak walls created an intimate feel. One of the first things she noticed was the smell: leather, wood, spices, and something warm and rich. The lighting was soft, and created a subtle glow that made the room seem deceptively cozy. The floor is a dark wood with scratches and paint stains. A large, green satin bed took up most of the room. It looked too big to be King sized, and had four, intricately carved posts. A sheer black and green canopy fell from the posts. On each of the posts, Hermione could see gleaming chains and cuffs. Unlike in the other areas of his house, where every piece of furniture had something on it, this room was nearly bare. It was enclosed though, creating an intimate space. A large modern fireplace was placed opposite the bed. Two chairs and a small table were placed before it. But it wasn't the furniture that both aroused and horrified her. No. It was the adornments.

A large wooden cross like an X was fastened to the wall. Leather restraint cuffs hung precariously from each corner, attached by thick metal chains to the shining mahogany. Above it is an expansive iron grid suspended from the ceiling, and from it hung various kinds of ropes, chains, and shackles. An assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops, and other implements hung from two large wooden poles. A shining metal pole was in one corner of the room, and to Hermione, seemed to be the least intimidating part.

There was an ostentatious wooden chest as well as an armoire that were locked. The pieces look custom made; all of the drawers were too small to hold clothing or large objects of any kind. Hermione briefly wondered what was inside, before she shook the thought out of her head. She'd rather not know. Against one of the walls was an emerald green, leather bench, and above it hung a rack that held canes of varying lengths and widths. At the end of a bed was a large, emerald leather couch that faced the bed. Hermione found it to be odd how the couch was facing the bed.

Taking in the woods, dark walls, ambient lighting, and exorbitant amounts of leather, there was a strange kind of softness and romanticism. An underlying intimacy beneath the intimidating exterior. Hermione looked at Draco, who was regarding her intently. His face was blank, void of all expression, and his eyes were hard. She hesitantly stepped further into the room, smirking at the Slytherin colours that adorned it. He walked behind her, scrutinizing her every movement. She blushed before picking up something feathery, touching the suede surface gently. There were very small, silver plastic beads on the end.

"What is it?" She asked hesitantly, her voice soft. She didn't know if she was in shock or not, but the lack of response was starting to scare her. She almost didn't want him to answer her.

"It's called a flogger." He replied simply. His voice was cool and calm, as though he was discussing the weather and not some kind of implement used during sex.

She gazed around the rest of the room, a numbness overcoming her senses. She didn't know any possible way to articulate how she felt about this room. It was terrifying, that much was obvious, but the clenching of her abdomen, and the racing of her blood fabricated a different kind of response altogether. She knew he was into control and dominance, but to actually see it in his lifestyle, _in his fucking house,_ was a different level that she didn't know how to respond to. Fear suddenly gripped hard onto her. She had so many questions. What was he going to do to her? How was he going to do it? When did he do this? When did it all begin for him? Who made him this way? Why was he like this in the first place? Why did he want her to be a part of it? How often would he want to do this? A headache began to push its way to her temples. She turned around to look at him, her expression blank.

"Say something." Malfoy commands, his voice just as calm and collected as before, yet there is a softness as well. He wanted her to speak? She didn't think she could. Ever. Words couldn't describe how she felt at the moment.

"So you do this to people?" She asked after several attempts to silently find her voice. She licked her dry lips and wished for that bottle of wine. His mouth quirked up into the faintest of smirks. She couldn't tell if he was amused or relieved, his eyes gave nothing away.

"I do this to women who want me to." He said after a few moments.

"And you want to do this with me?" She asked, her voice almost cracking. She was finding this harder and harder to believe. She already had doubts as to why he wanted her in the first place, then again, she wondered why she wanted him right back, but this was different. Very different. By showing her this and showing her the contract, he had allowed her into his personal world where pain and pleasure coincided as one.

"Very much." He replied, his voice low. His eyes were intense, a deep storm grey.

"You're a Dominant, right?" Hermione asked, remembering the terminology used in the contract. He looked the slightest bit impressed with her for remembering.

"Yes." His eyes were a scorching grey as he looked at her. She didn't quite understand the relationship still. She didn't understand why he felt the need to control. He sensed this.

"Being a Dominant, I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me. Intimacy is based on shared vulnerability. Nothing deepens intimacy like the experiences that we share when we feel vulnerable. And our partner is there with us, willing to share in the scary stuff." He looked at her hard, willing for her to understand. He growled as he gazed at her with hooded eyes sending spasms straight down to her pulsing, wet lips, "It's all about pleasure. Pure unadulterated pleasure. Both yours and mine. I'll show you just what you are truly capable of with that luscious little body of yours, Granger."

He viciously closed the gap between them, slamming his lips down on hers. He forced her lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners. Her blood began to heat, her body awakening under his touch. She returned his kiss with her own passion, partly to forget where she was, and partly to drown her senses in the male that was Malfoy.

"Turn around," he muttered against her lips, "I want to get you out of this dress." Obediently, she turned her heart thumping as desire flooded her system. He trailed his fingers from the nape of her spine down to the zipper of her dress on her lower back. His touch felt like electricity against her skin as he slowly teased her warm flesh.

"Your body is mine to play with," He began as he pulled down the zipper of her dress, his breath hot against the shell of her ear,"and I will fuck you and use you, end you're going to be begging for it."

Her heart began to pound harder within her chest as his words sunk in. Trepidation mixed with desire creating a toxic blend that flowed through her system. His words, though crude, managed to turn her on wildly.

She felt electricity shoot through her system, making her want to dance to some erotic rhythm with him by her side. She felt every nerve ending tingle, filling her with a desire only he seemed capable of creating. She'd never felt this way in her life. Tonight, it was different. Everything was different. Every whisper spoken over feverish skin, every breath, every sound, every sensation. It was all different. Tonight, everything could end or begin with her introduction into his dark and dangerous world.

He teased her flesh, dragging her body impossibly closer to his own. He unclasped her halter, and the dress fell to the floor like a waterfall of silk. Her dress hadn't allowed her to wear a bra, and his hands were immediately on her breasts, tenderly moulding and kneading her chest. He rolled her nipples between the pad of his thumb and her index finger until they were taut peaks. He swallowed any sounds she made, fucking her mouth with his tongue. Her skin began to heat up beneath his expert touch, and Hermione could feel herself surrender to him. Unexpectedly, he pulled away and pushed her towards the opulent emerald bed. He muttered something that Hermione couldn't hear, and her hands and feet were instantly bound in the cuffs that were attached to the four posts. She tried to move her wrists against the leather bindings, but it was to no avail.

"I want to try something. You may not like it at first, but give yourself time to adapt to it. I know it can be very arousing." He grabbed his wand before whispering a spell. Immediately, Hermione's vision began to gradually fade to an ominous black. It was as though there was an opaque black veil pulled over her eyes. She could hear Malfoy's shallow breathing, and she could feel his palm burning into her hip. Understanding flashed through her immediately.

He'd taken away her sight.


End file.
